Needing Someone
by Peanuts
Summary: Monica and Chandler share a surprising attraction when she visits Ross at college. But will it last when they both go through some life changes? Thanks so much for your great reviews! :) Chapter 13 has been added.
1. Default Chapter

Needing Someone  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Hey, Ross. How about goin' for a..."  
  
Chandler Bing let his words trail off when he entered his dorm room and saw a young, dark-haired overweight girl standing near the end of his bed, looking miserable.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said. "I...I'm waiting for my brother Ross."  
  
"You must be Monica," Chandler said, recalling Ross' sister name.  
  
"Yes. Are you...are you Ross' roommate Chandler?"  
  
Chandler smiled. "That's me."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Monica said, extending her hand, which Chandler shook.  
  
"Same here."  
  
"Do you know where my brother is? I really need to talk to him."  
  
"He's probably at a lecture about dinosaurs."  
  
"Yeah," Monica said ruefully. "You're probably right."  
  
Chandler moved closer to the teen-ager who shifted her weight uncomfortably and noticed her red-rimmed eyes.  
  
"Have you been crying? Did something happen? If there's some kind of an emergency, I can find Ross for you."  
  
"No, it's okay. No emergency. I don't mind waiting."  
  
"Have a seat," he said, pointing to the bed.  
  
He pulled out the chair from the desk he and Ross shared and straddled it.  
  
"You're still in high school, right?"  
  
Monica nodded. She fidgeted with the hem of her dark blue sweater.  
  
"Did you come here by yourself?"  
  
"Yeah. I had to. I have to talk to my brother. It's important, to me, but it's not life-threatening."  
  
"Can I get you something while you're waiting? A soda, chips, candy bar, whatever."  
  
Monica blushed and looked away. "A Diet Coke would be fine."  
  
"O-kay," Chandler said, rising from the chair and gathering a few coins from the desk for the vending machine. "One Diet Coke coming up."  
  
Chandler left the room and Monica stood from the bed. Ross' roommate was a cutie, she thought, and appeared nice. At least he didn't seem to freak out about her weight like the boys at her school did, although she did notice the slight smirk that crossed his face when she said she'd like a Diet Coke. Hey, at least she was trying.  
  
When she heard footsteps approaching, she quickly checked her appearance in the mirror. She applied a bit more red lipstick and ran a brush through her hair. She willed the puffiness around her eyes to disappear. Seeing the door open wider in the mirror, she quickly turned around and smiled. But the smile left when she saw her brother enter the room instead of Chandler.  
  
"Monica! What are you doing here? Are you all right? Is everything okay at home?"  
  
"Hi, Ross," she said tentatively. Now that her brother stood in front of her, she wasn't sure she'd done the right thing by showing up unexpectedly. "Mom and Dad are fine, if that's what you mean by asking if everything is okay at home."  
  
"Then why...why are you here? Shouldn't you be in school?"  
  
"We don't have classes until Monday. Ross, I'm miserable at home," she blurted out. "I had to get away from Mom. She's driving me crazy. You said I could visit some time. I saw the motel next to the campus. I'll stay there. Just for the next couple of days. Please?"  
  
"Do Mom and Dad know you're here?"  
  
Monica looked down at the floor. "No. They think I'm staying with Rachel. She said she would cover for me."  
  
Hearing the name Rachel conjured up all sorts of memories for Ross, some good, some not so good.  
  
"Rachel is willing to cover for you? I don't know about this, Mon."  
  
"Please, Ross. You don't know what it's like at home. Mom snaps at me for every little thing. It's gotten so much worse since you left. You've never understood what I go through with her. You're her favorite, okay? I'm not. She's always harping on me about something. I need some time away from Mom. If you won't let me stay here, I'll leave and you won't know where I am. No one will know. I'll run away and never come back. I swear!"  
  
"Monica, calm down. It's not that bad."  
  
"Yes, it is. Damnit, I wish you could see things from my point of view, just once!"  
  
Chandler, who had been standing outside holding the soda can, coughed and made his presence known. He stepped closer and then remained in the doorway.  
  
"I think your sister should stay here," he said. "I'll find somewhere else to bunk for the next few days."  
  
"Chandler, Monica can't stay here. She should've called me. She can't just show up like this and disrupt our schedules."  
  
"I'm so sorry I'm such a big, fat burden!" she cried.  
  
She grabbed her purse and her overnight bag from the bed and stormed toward the door. Chandler blocked her from leaving.  
  
"Ross, look at Monica. Can't you see she's upset?"  
  
Ross ran a hand through his dark hair. "Yeah. Okay. You can stay, but I'm telling our parents you're here."  
  
"No, please, don't do that, Ross. If they know I'm here, they'll come get me and drag me back home. Rachel will cover for me. She will."  
  
"How could you put Rachel into such an awkward position?"  
  
"So now you care more about Rachel than the way I'm feeling?! Thanks a lot, Ross!"  
  
"No, but this isn't right, Mon. Mom and Dad should know you're here."  
  
"If you tell them, I'll never forgive you. I mean it. Can't you do this one thing for me without making a federal case out of it?!"  
  
"All right, all right. I'll ask Carol, the girl I'm dating, if you can stay with her and her roommate."  
  
"Thank you," Monica said and offered him a small smile. "This means a lot to me."  
  
"Yeah, whatever. I'll be right back."  
  
"Thank you, too," Monica said to Chandler, after Ross had left. "If it weren't for you, I know Ross wouldn't have let me stay."  
  
Chandler shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I know what it's like to have parent trouble. I can empathize with needing to get away."  
  
"Really? You look like a pretty together guy."  
  
"That's because you don't know me," Chandler said and laughed.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"You'll like Carol. She's cool. She won't give you a hard time about staying with her."  
  
"I hope not. I hope Ross hasn't poisoned her against me."  
  
"Ross doesn't talk badly about you," Chandler assured her.  
  
"He's told you about me?" Monica asked, surprised.  
  
"Well, just that he has a sister who's a year younger than him and a senior in high school. He also talks about your baking and cooking skills."  
  
"Which, according to my mother, stink."  
  
"According to Ross, they don't."  
  
"Really?" Monica said, perking up. "He said I'm a good cook?"  
  
Chandler liked that he could make Monica feel better. "Yeah, he did."  
  
"Okay," Ross said, returning to the room. "Monica, you can stay with Carol. I'll take you to her room."  
  
"Thank you, Ross," she said, her blue eyes reflecting her appreciation.   
  
"You're welcome. Carol and I need to go to the library to study, so you're on your own tonight."  
  
"That's all right. I'll just read or something."  
  
"I'm not doing anything," Chandler spoke up, suddenly realizing he'd like to spend more time with Ross' sister. "How about having dinner with me?"  
  
"Okay," Monica said, without hesitation.  
  
Ross looked from his roommate to his sister and saw they were smiling at each other. Monica and Chandler hitting it off, he mused. This cannot be good. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Chandler escorted Monica to a cafeteria-style diner not far from the campus. Monica averted her eyes as she passed up all the delicious-looking entrees. She stopped when she reached the healthier foods and placed a large mixed green salad onto her tray, along with a bottle of water.  
  
"Will it bother you if I have pasta?" Chandler asked.  
  
"No. Eat whatever you want."  
  
They found a table against the wall and settled in. Laurie, a student who worked as a waitress, approached them and placed a basket of sourdough bread and grated parmesan cheese on the table.  
  
"Never saw her before," she said, cracking her gum. "New student you got stuck with?"  
  
The blonde beauty snickered; Chandler gave her a icy stare.  
  
"Laurie," he said, with more patience than he felt, "this is Monica, Ross' sister."  
  
"Get outta here! Ross? Tall, thin, good-looking Ross has a sister who looks..."  
  
"Laurie!"  
  
She stepped back at Chandler's harsh tone and then shrugged. "It's just hard to imagine."  
  
"I am so sorry about that," Chandler said, once the rude waitress had left. "I think she wants to date Ross and is upset about Carol."  
  
"Don't," Monica said, more familiar with the situation than Chandler could ever realize. "I know what she's thinking. It's what most people think when they see me. I'm surprised you wanted to be seen with me."  
  
"Ross could've treated you better. I could tell you were upset. I didn't want you to be alone."  
  
"Wow, Chandler, that's so sweet. Thank you. Tell me more about you. You mentioned something about having parent trouble. Share with me, so I won't feel so isolated with my 'mother issues'."  
  
"Oh, no, no, no. This is meant to be a lighthearted meal. If I tell you about my parents, you'll run screaming into the night. I can't let that happen. I'd never forgive myself."  
  
Monica covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled.  
  
"You should see the expression on your face," she said. "You look like you'd rather be having root canal. Someday, you are going to have to tell me your story."  
  
He thought for a moment. "Maybe I will. But definitely not tonight."  
  
*~*  
  
As they walked back to the dormitory, Monica thought about the meal she had shared with Chandler. She had done pretty well, if she did say so herself. It took every ounce of willpower she had, but she managed to say "no" to his offer of dessert. So what if she had eaten all his bread, without asking his permission. She was hungry!  
  
"Hey," Chandler said, when they reached Carol's room. "I'm not much of a fan, but there's a football game tomorrow night. That might be something fun for you. Wanna go?"  
  
"Football? Um...sure. But I guess I should check with Ross."  
  
"Of course. Come by our room in the morning. He should be there. He has a late class."  
  
"Okay, I will. I had a nice time, Chandler. Thank you for taking me to dinner and spending time with me. I know Ross doesn't like that I'm here, and well..."  
  
"I was happy to do it," he told her honestly. "I can see you're a good kid who needed a change of environment. Believe me, I can relate."  
  
Monica nodded and said goodnight to Chandler. Her soaring spirits had been dampened somewhat when he'd used the term "kid", but still, Monica reasoned, as she stepped into the room ready to say "hello" to Carol and to meet her roommate, Brenda, he had willingly spent time with her. And seemed to enjoy it. As had she.  
  
"There you are," a perky Carol said, rising from her bed to greet Monica. "Ross told me you went to dinner with Chandler. How was it?"  
  
"Very nice."  
  
"Good. Brenda, this is Ross' younger sister Monica."  
  
"Hi," Brenda said, shaking Monica's hand. "Nice to meet you. So, Chandler took you to dinner. How nice."  
  
Brenda's smile didn't quite reach her emerald eyes. Monica sensed an underlying tension in the room but didn't want to dwell on it.  
  
"We had a good time," was all she said. "I'm sorry I'm inconveniencing you."  
  
"It's no trouble," Carol said. "We laid out a sleeping bag for you next to my bed."  
  
"And we stowed your bag in the closet," Brenda added.  
  
"I'll just get ready for bed then."  
  
"I hope my light won't bother you," Brenda said, a little too sweetly. "I have to study for a test tomorrow."  
  
"That's fine. I don't want to be a bother."  
  
*~*  
  
Ross pounced on Chandler the second he entered the room.  
  
"Dude, where did you take my sister?"  
  
"To the diner. For dinner. Where did you think I was gonna take her?"  
  
"I...I wasn't sure," Ross admitted.  
  
"Well, if you had done your brotherly duty, I wouldn't have had to step in."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Thanks for covering for me. Don't worry. I'm not going to pawn Monica off on you the whole weekend."  
  
"Actually," Chandler said and grinned, "I wouldn't mind if you did."  
  
"What is up with you and my sister?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Chandler said, sinking onto his mattress. "There's something about Monica I like. She seems to have had it pretty rough compared to you. I like that I can make her smile. And laugh."  
  
"She laughed at your jokes?"  
  
"A little," Chandler said, slightly offended. "What? Your sister isn't allowed to laugh? Or I'm not allowed to humor her?"  
  
"No, it's just...this...this is so weird. I can't believe she took off from home like that and came here."  
  
"You need to listen to her, Ross. I think she's going through some serious stuff with your parents, or at least your mom."  
  
"Yeah, I guess she is."  
  
"I told her you'd be here tomorrow morning, so don't disappoint her, okay?"  
  
"I won't."  
  
*~*  
  
Monica waited until she was sure Carol and Brenda were asleep and after reaching for her purse, she sneaked into the bathroom. She noiselessly closed the door and turned on the light. Leaning against the basin, she pulled a pen and notebook from her handbag and began writing.  
  
I did it, she wrote with a flourish. I managed to fool Mom and Dad into thinking I'm with Rachel for the next few days, and now I'm here at NYU, staying in a dorm room with Ross' girlfriend, Carol. I met the nicest guy tonight. His name is Chandler, and he's Ross' roommate. He didn't run away from me. He looked at me and talked to me like I was a real person and not some freak. He is soooo cute! He has the bluest eyes and the sexiest smile. He's funny, too, but I got a sense he uses his wit as a cover for some problems he's had in his life. He wouldn't tell me about them, but I hope someday he will. He invited me to a football game tomorrow night. I can't wait to see him again. I can't believe a great guy, a college guy no less, is spending time with me, ME, just because he wants to! I'm sooo excited!  
  
And I was good, too. I didn't eat what I wanted to. I ate things that were good for me, for the most part. When I get home, I'm going to tell my parents that I'm ready to lose weight and that I want help. Their help. I think I can do it this time. I really do!  
  
*~*  
  
Monica smiled as she reread what she'd just written. She heard a noise and decided she'd better vacate the bathroom. When she returned her notebook and pen to her purse, her hand landed on a small square object. Knowing what it was, she sighed as she withdrew the package. It was her last Kit Kat candy bar. She stared at it, wanting to rip it open and eat it, especially since her stomach had been growling with hunger since she went to bed.   
  
Why does this have to be so hard, she mused. Hearing another noise propelled her into action. She dumped the candy bar into her purse and tiptoed back to her sleeping bag, silently congratulating herself on not having wolfed down the chocolate bar.  
  
This time, she planned to succeed. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Monica arrived at her brother's room early the next morning. Disappointment momentarily surfaced when she realized Chandler was not there, but Ross' words snapped her back to reality.  
  
"I want to know what is so important that you lied to Mom and Dad about where you would be this weekend."  
  
"Okay," Monica said, finding herself sitting on Chandler's bed when Ross took a seat on his own. "I came here to ask for your help."  
  
"With what?" he asked, his dark gaze narrowing.  
  
"Ross, I don't want to go to college next year. I want to go to a culinary school. Maybe even in California. Will you help me convince Mom and Dad? Please?"  
  
"A culinary...a culinary school?! Monica, do you really think you could be a professional chef?"  
  
"Yes! Everyone loves my cooking, well, except for Mom, and that's just because she knows I'm succeeding at something, and she can't stand it. I don't want to go to a four-year college or even a two-year college and learn boring things I'll never use. I want to go with my interest. I want to get started on my career."  
  
"Have you mentioned this to them?"  
  
"Some," Monica hedged. "I've tried telling them that going to a traditional college is probably not something I want to do. Dad looked stricken and Mom refused to talk about it."  
  
"They probably thought you meant you weren't going to school at all after graduation. Did you mention the chef part?"  
  
"They wouldn't let me finish, Ross. They cut me off like they always do. I expected Dad to pat me on the head and send me to my room. They only listen to you, Ross. That's why I need your help."  
  
Ross heard the passion in his sister's voice. "This is something you really want to do? I mean, you've given the whole idea a lot of serious thought? It's not just some...some whim? You really want to pursue this?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Why...why California?"  
  
"San Francisco has an excellent culinary school. It's not the only one, and I won't die if I don't get to go there, but it's an option I want to pursue. Let's face it, Ross," Monica said, deciding to reveal more of her true feelings, "I think it would be good for me to get a fresh start somewhere new after I graduate. I know you don't like me to say it, but things aren't the greatest at home. I haven't exactly been the daughter Mom and Dad were hoping for, you know?"  
  
"Monica, that's not true. Mom and Dad love you. You know they do."  
  
"Yeah," she said, giving him a sad smile. "I know they love me. I just don't think they always like me. But that's okay because I'm not always sure I like myself."  
  
Ross reached for his sister's hands. "Don't ever say that. You are a good person, Mon. I know we've had our differences, but I would never let anyone hurt you."  
  
"I know. You did a pretty good job when you were home, but you're not there anymore. I have to learn to fend for myself. Losing weight and planning my future are two of the ways I want to take control of my life. Finally."  
  
"You...you're serious about wanting to lose weight?"  
  
"Yeah," Monica said and gave him a shy smile. "I've been trying, off and on, but this weekend is proving to me that I can do things on my own. I need Mom and Dad's support, but I know I'm the one who has to be dedicated about losing weight. I'm going to do it, Ross. I am."  
  
Since this was the first time he'd heard his sister talk so seriously about wanting to lose weight, Ross had to make certain Monica was doing it for the right reasons. "Monica, please don't get upset with me, but I have to ask you something."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"This business about losing weight. It's not because of Chandler, is it?"  
  
Monica pulled her hands away from her brother's. "No! Why would you ask me that? What does Chandler have to do with any of this?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but the...the timing of all this has me just a wee bit suspicious. Monica, Chandler and I are in college. We're around a lot of women all the time. You're a senior in high school. High school! Yeah, I know Chandler treated you well yesterday, but that doesn't mean he's interested in you, and I don't want you going home thinking he is. That's not the reason to lose weight, okay?"  
  
"I know who and what I am, Ross. I'm not doing any of this because of Chandler, okay? I'm doing it for me. Me! Thanks so much for all your damn support!"  
  
An outraged Monica marched towards the door. Ross reached for his sister's arm and turned her to face him.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice contrite. "I just...I had to know because I don't...I don't want you to get hurt. And I'm sorry, Monica, but Chandler would only hurt you."  
  
"I wouldn't let him," she said, her voice small but confident. "I know you're thinking about you and Rachel, but this is not the same. I like Chandler. In fact, I'm going to the football game with him tonight at his invitation. But I'm not going to let anything happen that would cause me any regrets. I just want to have a good time with a nice guy. That's all."  
  
*~*  
  
Later that afternoon, Monica found a pay phone and, using her calling card, decided she'd better check in with Rachel.  
  
"I was hoping you'd call," Rachel said, upon hearing her friend's voice.  
  
"Why? Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Everything's cool. I just wanted to know how it's going. Did you tell Ross what you want to do?"  
  
"Yeah, I did."  
  
"How come you sound so discouraged? Won't Ross help you?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Monica admitted and bit her lower lip. "Our conversation got off track."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because my brother is worried I'm going to do something stupid."  
  
"Monica, what are you talking about?"  
  
She sighed and then decided to confide in Rachel. "I've been spending time with Ross' roommate, Chandler, and Ross doesn't like it."  
  
"Really?" Rachel asked, intrigued. "Tell me more."  
  
"Rachel! He's just a nice guy who took me to dinner last night. That's all."  
  
"Then why is Ross worried?" Rachel challenged.  
  
"Well," Monica said, unable to keep the smile from her voice, "because we're also going to a football game tonight."  
  
"Wow, Monica, good for you!"  
  
"But nothing's gonna happen, Rach. I won't let it. I know Chandler is out of my league. But it is nice to have a guy, especially a college guy, paying attention to me. I think I kinda know how you feel now."  
  
"Oh, Monica, you know the guys around here are jerks. I've told you that before. Just have fun. Okay?"  
  
"Okay. I will."  
  
"Don't worry about what your brother thinks, and don't worry about anything here. I got you covered, all right?"  
  
"Thanks. I owe you so much, Rach."  
  
"I wanna hear everything that happened when you get back. Enjoy!"  
  
*~*  
  
Deciding she'd better get ready to meet Chandler, Monica headed for Carol's dorm room in a fairly good mood. But what she overheard as she approached the open door sank her spirits.  
  
"I can't believe Chandler allowed himself to be seen with her. What was he thinking? He knows you like him. Why would he waste his time with the likes of her?"  
  
Monica recognized the voice. It belonged to the waitress from the diner. What was her name again? Laurie, she remembered with disdain. Monica didn't have to enter the room to know who Laurie was talking to. It had to be Brenda.  
  
"I don't know," Brenda said. "It disgusts me to think of him spending time with that loser. Can you believe he's taking her to the football game tonight? The football game! She's going to totally humiliate him. Like he needs more of that! But apparently it was his idea, so I say he deserves whatever he gets."  
  
"I think Ross must be paying him to entertain her this weekend. That's the only thing that makes any sense to me."  
  
"Honey, you couldn't pay me enough to be seen in public with her."  
  
Monica heard their spiteful laughter, and with tears rolling silently down her cheeks, she raced down the corridor to escape their cruel words. Unable to clearly see where she was going, she rammed right into Chandler.  
  
"Monica, what's wrong?!"  
  
"Nothing. Get out of my way!"  
  
"You're crying. Did Ross upset you again? What's going on? Tell me. I want to know."  
  
Having heard no signs of teasing in his tone and not sensing that he was mocking her, she took a chance and looked at him. The concern on his face would have melted the ice forming around her heart if she'd let it, but she had to have some way to protect herself. Was he someone she could truly trust? She didn't know, and she realized she didn't want to stick around to find out.  
  
"I just...I shouldn't have come here this weekend. I made a big mistake."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I don't belong here," she said, her voice conveying how miserable she now felt. Why did she always let people and their insensitive remarks affect her so negatively? Because she believed them. When she heard someone talking badly about her, it just reinforced the way she envisioned herself. "I don't belong anywhere."  
  
"Come with me," Chandler said, holding out his hand for her to take.  
  
She hesitated a moment and then clasped her hand in his.  
  
"Where are we going?" she asked, as he led her outside.  
  
"I want us to go for a walk away from the immediate area. Is that okay?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She found she did trust him. At least enough to walk with him in the cool, crisp autumn afternoon. They walked in a companionable silence for about twenty minutes. Chandler stopped, and so did Monica, when they reached an almost private hillside surrounded by trees that displayed their fall foliage with pride.  
  
"Chandler, this place is awesome."  
  
"I know," he said and smiled. "I discovered it my first week here. It's getting more breathtaking now that the leaves are changing colors. I come here when I want to get away from everybody and everything. Sit down."  
  
They sat side by side with their backs against one of the bigger tree trunks.  
  
"Do you want to get away from everybody and everything often?" Monica asked, sincerely wanting to know.  
  
"Often enough," Chandler answered. "When I was growing up, I lived in a house with a lot of yelling and fighting. I would either have to scream louder than my parents for them to realize they were upsetting me or I would have to leave the house if I wanted any peace. Now, when the world is too noisy for me, I have to take refuge. I need silence."  
  
"Your childhood situation sounds horrible."  
  
"Believe me, it was. There's more I could tell you, but suffice it to say, I know, all too well, about not feeling like you belong anywhere. I know it's scary. Alarm bells went off in my head when I heard you utter those words."  
  
"I didn't mean to say them out loud," Monica said. "I try to keep those kinds of thoughts to myself."  
  
"But that's not good either. The people who care about you should know how you're feeling."  
  
"Is that what you did?"  
  
"No," Chandler admitted. "But I know it's what you should do, Monica. You have your whole life ahead of you."  
  
"So do you."  
  
Chandler shrugged. "I'm just trying to survive. I see potential in you, Monica. I think you're smart and caring and have a lot to offer. But I also see that you're hurting and that you've been hurt. I know what that's like. I didn't really have anyone to talk to when I was going through my stuff. I guess what I want to tell you, Monica, is that if you ever need or want to talk, I'd like to be there for you."  
  
"And who's there for you?" Monica couldn't help but ask.  
  
Chandler looked away. "It doesn't matter. I have my way of expressing what I'm feeling."  
  
"To someone?" Monica pressed.  
  
"Not exactly," Chandler said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "I write. That's my release."  
  
"You mean like a journal?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"I do that, too," Monica said, pleased they had something else in common. Hearing him say that eased her tension. "It's easier to write."  
  
"Yeah, it is," Chandler agreed. "But it also helps to talk."  
  
"When we can't talk to each other," Monica said, hesitating at what she was about to say, "maybe we could write."  
  
"You can write to me any time," Chandler said.  
  
"If I'm going to let you be there for me, then I want to be there for you."  
  
"Me?" Chandler said, shaking his head as if to ward off Monica's offer. "I've already been through my war. I'm okay."  
  
"I don't think you are," she said, not unkindly. "You wouldn't be so in tune with what's going on with me if you were in a completely different place. If I'm going to share my horrors, you have to share yours."  
  
"I'll try," Chandler said, not wanting to lose the possibility of helping Monica. Concern had gripped him when she'd said she felt she didn't belong anywhere. He knew the thoughts he'd entertained when he'd silently spoken those same words. "But I'm not promising anything."  
  
"Then neither am I," Monica said stubbornly.  
  
She looked so petulant and adamant that Chandler couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"What?" she asked. "Why are you laughing?"  
  
"I'm sorry. It's just that Ross has told me a few stories about when the two of you were growing up, and after seeing that look on your face, I believe him when he said you can be forceful when you want to be."  
  
"That's not a bad thing," she defended.  
  
"No, it's not. I think you're adorable."  
  
"You do not!" Monica said, trying furiously not to blush.  
  
She'd been called many things in her eighteen years, but never adorable. At least not in the past few years.  
  
Chandler didn't know what had possessed him to compliment her that way, but now that he'd spoken the words, he realized he did think she was adorable. Very adorable.  
  
"Yes, Monica," Chandler said, moving closer to her and affirming his earlier words. "I really do."  
  
Her blue eyes locked on his, and she knew, without a doubt, he was going to kiss her. Joy was quickly replaced by panic. He would know. The second his lips touched hers, he would know that she had never been kissed. She didn't know how to kiss. Why was he torturing her this way? Didn't he realize girls who looked like her were not kissed by boys? Her mind screamed for her to flee, but instead, she found herself meeting him halfway, her lips slightly parted.   
  
He sensed her nervousness but he also saw that she wanted to kiss him, too. Encouraged that she hadn't fled, he lowered his mouth to hers and captured her full red lips in a tender kiss that soon turned serious.  
  
Monica closed her eyes, wanting to savor every moment of her first kiss. She tried to think of what Rachel had told her to do if she was ever kissed, but all thoughts flew out of her mind when she felt Chandler's cool palms framing her face as he deepened the kiss. She reached for his hair and began to run her fingers through it as she continued to experience the wonder of her lips touching his.  
  
When the kiss finally ended, Monica slowly opened her eyes, praying she wouldn't see regret or repulsion on Chandler's face. She saw neither. He was smiling at her; her heart soared.  
  
"You're a great kisser," she said, even though she had nothing to compare it to.  
  
"So are you," he said, trailing his index finger along her cheek.  
  
She could only hope the words he'd spoken were true because she definitely wanted to feel his lips on hers again. Soon. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
"We...we should head back to the dorm to get ready for the game," Chandler said to Monica, after taking a few moments to reflect on their kiss.  
  
Hearing the word "dorm" brought back the reason Monica had been trying to escape.  
  
"I...I can't go to the game," she said. "I want to go home."  
  
"Why? What happened before? You never did tell me."  
  
Cringing inwardly at the idea of having to tell Chandler what she'd overheard, she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. This has been wonderful, but I...I can't stay."  
  
"If you're leaving," Chandler said, rising to his feet and holding out his hand to help Monica stand, "then I'm driving you home."  
  
*~*  
  
Ross put down his textbook the second Monica and Chandler entered the room.  
  
"Where have you two been?" he demanded. "I looked all over for you. I knew you couldn't have gone to the stadium this early. You could've left me or Carol a note."  
  
"We went for an impromptu walk off campus," Chandler explained. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
"Wrong with me?!" Ross exclaimed. "You're the one escorting my younger sister all over the place. Is it wrong of me to want to know where she is?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Monica said. "It was my fault. But you'll be happy to know I've decided to go home. Tonight."  
  
"Why? Did something happen? Did Chandler do anything to..."  
  
"No!" Monica yelled, practically stomping her feet. "Ross, stop blaming Chandler. He's been nothing but kind to me. Which is more than I can say for a few people around here. But it doesn't matter. You were right. I don't belong here. So, I'm going to leave. Is it okay if I use your phone to call Rachel? I want to spend the night with her. I'll return to our house in the morning."  
  
"Sure, using the phone is fine but, Monica, how are you going to get there?"  
  
Chandler spoke up, ready to face Ross' wrath if he had to.  
  
"I'm driving her."  
  
"You...you...you're what?!"  
  
"I'm driving Monica to her friend Rachel's house if it's okay for her to stay there."  
  
"Can I talk to you...outside?"  
  
Monica, holding the receiver in her hand, looked ready to kill her brother. Chandler motioned with his hands that he had everything under control.  
  
"You make your call. I'll deal with your brother."  
  
"Thank you," she said.  
  
Ross heard the gratefulness in his sister's voice and rolled his eyes.  
  
"What are you doing, Chandler? You can't possibly want to spend Friday night driving my sister to Rachel's house. She's my responsibility. I'll see that she gets home safely."  
  
"Why is it so hard for you to comprehend that I might want to do this? For Monica?"  
  
"She...she's a senior in high school! It's not like you're ever going to see her again. I don't want you leading my sister on, Chandler, and if that's what you're doing..."  
  
"I'm not, okay and, dude, lower your voice. I happen to like Monica. Very much. I don't mind driving her to Rachel's. She feels comfortable with me. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize that. I'm not an animal, Ross."  
  
"I know. I just...I can't wrap my mind around this. I'd feel better if you let me take care of Monica."  
  
"Oh, and the possibility of seeing Rachel again has nothing to do with you wanting to drive your sister home?"  
  
"In case you've forgotten, I'm dating Carol now."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But in case you've forgotten, I know how many songs you've composed that are dedicated to Rachel and what might have been."  
  
Ross glared at his friend but said nothing.  
  
"Why don't we leave it up to Monica?" Chandler suggested. "I made the offer, and she accepted. But if she'd rather you take her, I'm willing to step aside."  
  
"You really want to do this?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay," Ross relented. "You can drive Monica to Rachel's."  
  
Chandler smiled and slapped Ross on the back. "Thanks, man. Don't worry. I'll take good care of your sister."  
  
Ross shook his head. "I still don't understand this, and don't forget I know you're on the rebound, so you'd better not let anything happen."  
  
"It won't. I will be a perfect gentleman. I promise."  
  
They returned to the room and saw that Monica was off the phone.  
  
"Are you staying at Rachel's?" Ross asked.  
  
"Yeah. Ross, could you do me a favor?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Could you get my bag from Carol's room? It should be in their closet. I think all my things are in there."  
  
"Okay, but don't you want to say good-bye to Carol?"  
  
"If she's there, could you ask her to come here? Please?"  
  
Ross nodded and left the room.  
  
"Something happened in the dorm room, didn't it?" Chandler asked. "That's why you don't want to stay there tonight."  
  
Monica nodded. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Chandler, but you could do a lot better than Brenda."  
  
Chandler laughed. "Brenda? I'm not seeing Brenda."  
  
"Oh, well, not that it's any of my business..."  
  
"Did she say something to you?"  
  
"Not directly," Monica admitted. Her voice became melancholy. "I overheard a conversation. And believe me, it's nothing I haven't heard before and probably will hear again."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Chandler said.  
  
Realizing just how vulnerable she was, he moved to give Monica a hug; she allowed herself to be enveloped in his arms for a few sweet moments.  
  
"Dude!" Ross said, returning to the room with Monica's bag in hand and Carol at his side.  
  
"Sorry," Chandler said, pulling away.  
  
"Monica, I'm sorry you have to leave so soon," Carol said.  
  
"Yeah, me, too. Thanks for letting me stay with you."  
  
"Any time. Guys, can I have a moment alone with Monica?"  
  
Ross and Chandler stepped outside.  
  
"Ross told me that Chandler is driving you home and that you spent nearly all your time with him. Monica, do you know the happiness you are radiating?"  
  
"No," she said, placing the palms of her hands to her full flushed cheeks. "Is it that obvious?"  
  
Carol chuckled and placed a kind hand on Monica's arm. "Probably not to everyone, but certainly to me. Maybe it's because I've had people say the same thing to me since I've been dating your brother. I just want you to know that while I think Chandler is a nice guy, I hope there's someone in your high school or neighborhood whom you like, too."  
  
Monica eyed Carol suspiciously. "Did my brother put you up to this?"  
  
"No, why would you say that?"  
  
"Because it wouldn't surprise me if my dear older brother wanted to send me on my way with a dire warning about the dangers of getting involved with Chandler."  
  
"I swear he didn't say anything about this to me at all."  
  
"Did Brenda?"  
  
She nearly choked saying the name.  
  
"Monica, I don't know what happened to make you leave so suddenly, but I can assure you that no one has said anything to me about you and Chandler. What I'm telling you has been from my own observations. We don't know each other very well, but I just wanted to give you a piece of friendly advice. I didn't mean to set you off."  
  
"I'm sorry," Monica said, fidgeting with her sweater. "I just...I'm not used to this. I'm being silly. Please forgive me."  
  
Carol smiled. "You're forgiven. Before I forget, I wanted to give you these."  
  
With a wink, she handed Monica a package of photos.  
  
"I think there may be one or two in there that you would appreciate having."  
  
"Thank you," Monica said, giving Carol an impulsive but well-received hug.  
  
*~*  
  
Ross walked with Monica and Chandler to the car.  
  
"What we talked about this morning in my room?" Ross said.  
  
Monica nodded.  
  
"I'll be home for Thanksgiving. We'll talk about it then, okay?"  
  
She smiled. "Thanks, Ross."  
  
"No problem. Drive safely, Chandler. You have a very important person in your passenger seat."  
  
"I know," Chandler agreed.  
  
While Ross waited in the parking lot, Chandler placed Monica's bag in his trunk and then opened the door for her. She looked from the silver sports car to Chandler.  
  
"Do you...um...do you have a portable vacuum, by chance?"  
  
"What?" Chandler asked while Ross snickered.  
  
"It's just...your car...well, it's a little messy. I'd like to clean it before I get in."  
  
"Oh, I remember these stories, too," Chandler said and rolled his eyes. "I'll clean it as best I can."  
  
"It's okay," Monica said. "I'll just brush the crumbs off the seat. Here, Ross, can you throw these containers in the trash?"  
  
Before Chandler could do or say anything, Monica had cleaned and organized the interior of his car.  
  
"Wow," he said, grudgingly appreciating her work, "this is the cleanest it's been since I got it."  
  
"You're welcome," she said and allowed herself a small laugh at his pained look. "Aww, it wasn't that bad. Now, if we could just find a car wash for the outside..."  
  
Ross bid them good-bye and waved as they drove off.  
  
*~*  
  
"Once we hit the Long Island Expressway, I'll need directions," he told her.  
  
"No problem. This really is nice," she said, running her fingers along the black leather seat.  
  
"Thanks. It was a guilt-ridden present from my mom," he confessed.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Chandler shrugged. He stole a glance in her direction before returning his eyes to the road.  
  
"My mom hasn't been around much, so she thought giving me a car would make up for her absence. It doesn't, but do you really think I was going to turn down a free car?"  
  
"No, I guess not. But if I may ask, why have you been without a mother?"  
  
Chandler hesitated and then decided to divulge one of his secrets. "She's a published romance author who travels all over the country, actually the world."  
  
"Bing?" Monica said, as realization suddenly dawned. "As in Nora Tyler Bing?"  
  
Chandler grimaced but didn't shy away from the topic.  
  
"The one and only. See, now you know a little more about me."  
  
"Chandler, I have to tell you. I read her books. I enjoy her books. I imagine...well, you don't need to know what I imagine, but wow. Nora Bing is your mom!"  
  
"How 'bout that?" Chandler said. "Want an autographed book? I'm sure I could get you one. No problem."  
  
Monica heard the sarcasm and touch of anger in his voice. Her heart lurched.  
  
"I'm sorry she hasn't been there for you," Monica said sincerely. "You're the son she mentions on talk shows."  
  
"Yes, unfortunately, I am," Chandler said, recalling the taunts that had been thrown his way thanks to his mother's sometimes careless remarks. "And now, please, let's change the subject."  
  
Knowing how it felt to be prodded into discussing something she'd rather not, Monica was quick to oblige. Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing her next choice of topic would be just as unwelcome. "Ross mentioned coming home for Thanksgiving. What will you be doing?"  
  
"You are hitting all the hot subjects with me tonight. I don't know what I'll be doing, but I know I won't be eating turkey."  
  
"You don't like turkey?" Monica asked. "That's not so uncommon, I guess. A lot of people don't eat turkey..."  
  
"It's not just turkey," Chandler said, a little harsher than he intended.   
  
Monica slid closer to the passenger door, further away from Chandler. His tone unnerved her.  
  
"It's the whole Thanksgiving experience I won't be participating in."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories for you."  
  
Chandler sighed and looked at Monica. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. You had no way of knowing. It's just that Thanksgiving is the holiday when my parents chose to tell me they were getting a divorce. It's the hardest, stupidest day for me to get through."  
  
"That is so sad. How old were you?"  
  
"Nine."  
  
"Do you spend the day alone?"  
  
Chandler shrugged. "Sometimes."  
  
"Well, you're not spending this Thanksgiving alone," she said, her voice adamant.   
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I respect the difficulty you have getting through the holiday," she said, "but this year, I want you to spend the day with my family. I know I don't have the healthiest relationship with them, especially my mom, but we do enjoy the holidays. You should experience that, Chandler."  
  
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I couldn't impose my sour attitude about Thanksgiving on people I don't even know. It wouldn't be fair. As much as I appreciate your invitation, I have to decline."  
  
"You can't," Monica said, some of her inborn feistiness surfacing. "I can make you a whole separate Thanksgiving meal with any food you want."  
  
"Monica, that's not the point..."  
  
"Yes, it is. Because Chandler Bing, if you don't come to spend Thanksgiving with me then I will just have to bring Thanksgiving to you!" 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Monica took Chandler's ensuing silence to mean he had agreed to join her and her family for Thanksgiving. She smiled inwardly at the prospect.  
  
"We're leaving the expressway," Chandler said, breaking into her thoughts. "Start directing me."  
  
Monica guided him to Rachel's house. He pulled into the driveway and surveyed the sprawling, well-kept grounds and two-story white house with blue trim.   
  
"Nice," he said, nodding.  
  
"I know," Monica agreed. "You should see the inside."  
  
Not knowing for certain whether that was an invitation to extend his stay, Chandler made no move to leave the car, although he did turn off the engine.  
  
"Are you sure someone's home?" he asked. "The house looks dark."  
  
"Rachel is," Monica said, pointing to the second floor. "That's her room. I see a light."  
  
Chandler looked to where Monica had indicated. At that moment, he noticed a curtain being pulled back and a familiar attractive face, from photos Ross had showed him, appeared in the window. Smiling, she waved and motioned that she was on her way downstairs.  
  
"She's coming," Monica said. "Would you like to meet her?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
They both exited the car at the same time Rachel opened the heavy oak front door. Dressed in tight-fitting faded blue jeans and a gauzy white top, she rushed to say "hello" to her friend and to give her a hug.  
  
"We have the place to ourselves," she announced excitedly, before realizing Chandler was walking closer to Monica. "Oh, you must be Chandler. Hi. I'm Rachel. Nice to meet you."  
  
"Nice to meet you, too," he said, shaking her hand.  
  
"So, you wanna come in?" she asked.  
  
Monica looked to Chandler with hope in her eyes.  
  
"Maybe just for a little bit," he said.  
  
"Great. I have sodas and chips all ready."  
  
"Not for me," Monica said, as they entered the foyer and walked carefully on the polished hardwood floor. "Unless it's a diet soda."  
  
"Sure," Rachel said, looking at her friend a bit strangely. "I have Diet Coke. Come on."  
  
They followed Rachel into the huge living room, with its white carpet, bay windows and a mixture of modern and antique furniture.  
  
"Your home is lovely," Chandler commented, looking around at the expensive items proudly on display.  
  
"Thanks. I'll give you the grand tour."  
  
She and Monica shared a giggle; Chandler just smiled.  
  
She took them through the living room into an elegant formal dining room, and then into a family room that Chandler would have killed for with every electronic contraption known to man, and finally into a huge, well-lit kitchen with every appliance needed and not needed. They climbed the stairs to see the bedrooms, which somehow didn't fit with the downstairs decor. But they were lovely just the same.   
  
"Very nice," Chandler said again, as they walked back into the living room.  
  
"Make yourselves comfortable on the sofa," Rachel said. "I'll bring the food in here."  
  
"I'm glad you got to meet my friend," Monica said.  
  
"Me, too. She seems really nice."  
  
"She is. I'm sure you've heard about her from Ross."  
  
"Maybe a little," he admitted, not wanting to give away any of his friend's secrets.  
  
Rachel returned with a tray of glasses filled with soda and ice and a bowl of tortilla chips.  
  
"This one's yours," she said, handing a glass to Monica, who had distributed coasters for all of them.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Rachel handed another glass to Chandler and then sat down on the carpet across from the sofa.  
  
"Help yourself," she said, pointing to the bowl where she had reached in for a chip.  
  
Chandler found he was self-conscious about eating in front of Monica.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want any?" Rachel asked Monica. It definitely wasn't like Monica to turn down chips. "I can make you something else if you're hungry."  
  
"Actually, I'm not," Monica said. "I'm fine."  
  
She took another sip of her soda.  
  
"So, how's Ross?" Rachel asked.  
  
"He's fine," Monica said.  
  
"Do you like having him for a roommate?" Rachel asked Chandler.  
"Sure. He's a good guy."  
  
"He doesn't drive you crazy with all his dinosaur talk?"  
  
Rachel and Monica shared another laugh.  
  
"No. It doesn't bother me."  
  
"Ross lucked out, didn't he?" Rachel said to Monica. "We didn't think he'd find anyone who would be able to put up with him."  
  
"Well, he has to put up with me, too. But we get along."  
  
"Hey, Rach," Monica said. "Ross said he's coming home for Thanksgiving. Maybe you can join us, you know, if your parents and sisters go away again and you don't want to go. Chandler's coming, too."  
  
"That's nice," Rachel said. "I'll check with my parents and let you know."  
  
"You don't celebrate Thanksgiving with your family?" Chandler asked.  
  
"Not always," Rachel said, reaching for another chip. "Sometimes, they do things that I don't want to do. They're okay with me being by myself. They know the Gellers will take care of me."  
  
"Wow, that's...interesting."  
  
"Like tonight," Rachel said, warming to the subject. "There's some charity event. My sisters are way more into that stuff than me, so I asked to be excused, and my parents were cool with that."  
  
Chandler nodded.  
  
"Rachel," Monica said, not sure she should say anything but wanting her best friend to know the latest, "guess who Chandler's mom is?"  
  
Chandler sighed but didn't stop Monica from telling Rachel.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Nora Tyler Bing!"  
  
"Nooooo!" Rachel said, her blue eyes lighting up.  
  
"Yes, yes, it's true," Chandler said, somewhat resignedly. "I made the offer to Monica, and I'll make it to you. If you want an autographed book, just say so."  
  
"So!" Rachel said, waving her hand wildly in the air.  
  
Monica giggled and then so did Rachel.  
  
"Okay," Chandler said, after finishing his drink. "Consider it done."  
  
He swiped another chip from the bowl and then stood from the sofa.  
  
"I should be heading back. Rachel, it was very nice to meet you. Thank you for your hospitality."  
  
"Any time," she said and smiled. "It was nice to meet you, too."  
  
"I'll walk you out," Monica said, stealing a glance at Rachel who nodded.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Be back in a minute, Rach."  
  
"Take your time," she said, low enough so only Monica to hear.  
  
She walked with them to the door and gave Chandler a shy smile. "Tell that smart, crazy dinosaur-loving guy I said 'hi'."  
  
"Will do," Chandler assured her.  
  
Rachel left the front door slightly open and then went into the kitchen to give Chandler and Monica some privacy.   
  
"This was nice," Monica said, beginning to feel more and more relaxed around Chandler.  
  
"Yeah, it was. I'm glad I got to meet Rachel."  
  
"I'm glad I got to spend more time with you," Monica ventured.  
  
"Well, there's that, too," Chandler said.  
  
He ran a hand through her dark tresses.  
  
"Drive safely," Monica said, searching his face to see if he planned to kiss her again.  
  
"I will."  
  
Lowering his head, he took a step closer to her. He saw her lips part in anticipation.  
  
"Your brother will kill me if I kiss you again."  
  
"What if I want you to?" Monica asked, not sure where her boldness was coming from but liking it just the same.  
  
"Monica, I've enjoyed being with you, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you."  
  
"If I'm okay with this, then you can be, too."  
  
"But are you? Okay with this, I mean."  
  
"Chandler, you've been nicer to me than any boy I've ever had the misfortune to know."  
  
"That's just it," he said, still stroking her hair. "I'm not a boy, Monica. And I don't want to mislead you by having you think of me in those terms."  
  
"You're trying to tell me that you could meet someone at college tomorrow, and then you would never give me another thought."  
  
"Not exactly. I just...we won't be seeing each other again..."  
  
"Until Thanksgiving," Monica interjected.  
  
"Right. Until Thanksgiving. And then after that, who knows? I'm not just saying this for me, I'm saying it for you, too."  
  
"Chandler, I'm not thinking of you as my boyfriend. I'm just thinking of you as someone, okay a man, who was incredibly nice to me and who treated me with respect and kindness. Am I wrong to do that?"  
  
"No," he said, reaching for her hand. "I like knowing you think of me that way."  
  
"Then what's the problem?"  
  
"You're right," he said. "There is no problem. I just wanted to make sure."  
  
"Then kiss me again," she said, shocking herself and him by making the first move. "And make it a memorable one because it has to last me until Thanksgiving." 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
"C'mon," Rachel said, anxiously motioning for Monica to follow her upstairs to her room. "You gotta tell me everything."  
  
As Monica climbed the stairs, she realized she never thought she would be in a position to fill Rachel in on the details concerning her and a guy. It was always Monica who begged to hear all the juicy tidbits. She decided to enjoy this turn of events for as long as it lasted.  
  
Rachel plopped herself down on the bed and sat cross-legged after patting a spot on her quilted comforter for Monica.  
  
"He is cute!" Rachel gushed. "His eyes. They're so blue! And his smile!"  
  
"I know!" Monica wholeheartedly agreed.   
  
They both laughed.  
  
"Monica, you look so happy. Okay, now you talk. Tell me everything."  
  
As Monica relayed the events of the past two days, she included the conversation she'd overheard between Brenda and Laurie.  
  
"Those bitc..."  
  
Monica cut her off. "Thanks, Rach, but you know it's what others have said and are saying, too. Brenda likes Chandler, but he told me he's not seeing her."  
  
"Good for him!" Rachel said, with righteous indignation. "She doesn't deserve him."  
  
"You don't even know her," Monica chided, while secretly being thankful she had a friend who was on her side, no matter what.  
  
"Hey, she spoke badly about you. I don't need to meet her to know she's not nice. So is Ross like pulling his hair out over this or what?"  
  
"He's being okay about it in front of us, but he's also giving us not-so-subtle warnings. And he probably is cursing both of us when we're not around. But guess what? I don't care!"  
  
They both collapsed into a fit of laughter.  
  
"What about this whole I don't want any potato chips, thank you, and I'll drink a Diet Coke. Is it because of Chandler?" Rachel asked.  
  
"No," Monica said, picking up a lavender throw pillow and clutching it to her stomach. "Not entirely. I decided to get serious about losing weight before I even met Chandler. Okay, so he's an added motivation, but Ross already lectured me about not using Chandler as a reason to lose weight. I don't need to hear it from you, too, Rach."  
  
"I wasn't going to say anything. I think it's great. I'll help you any way I can."  
  
"You're such a good friend to me!" Monica exclaimed, her voice conveying her gratefulness. "You know, Rach, the first time Chandler kissed me, I tried to think of all the cool things you told me to do if a guy ever kissed me, but I...I couldn't remember any of them."  
  
"I'm sure you did fine. He kissed you again, didn't he?"  
  
Monica shrugged shyly. "Yeah, he did. And it was sooo awesome. I know I can't call Chandler my boyfriend or anything because we agreed on that, but Rach, I gotta tell you this. He is someone I can totally see myself giving my flower to someday!"  
  
"Monica, please. We've talked about this before. Don't call it that. It creeps me out."  
  
"Okay, okay," she said, fidgeting with the pillow.   
  
"Do you think...I mean, is that something you think Chandler would want to do? With you?"  
  
"I don't know," Monica said. She began to feel some of her newfound confidence slipping away. "You don't think he would, do you?"  
  
"No, Mon, I'm not saying that, okay? I just...I think you should consider, very carefully, what he said to you tonight before he left."  
  
"Was he trying to let me down gently?" Monica asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Did I totally blow it, Rach? You gotta be honest with me because I don't know what I'm doing!"  
  
"No, Mon. I think he just wanted to make sure that you knew where he was coming from. I think he likes you. I really do. But he is a guy, Mon. I think he wanted to emphasize that point."  
  
"Because I'm a moron who had this stupid dreamy look on her face that probably freaked him out! Why can't I be cool like you, Rach?"  
  
Disgusted with herself, Monica threw the pillow on the bed and stood up. Rachel stood as well and placed her hands on Monica's upper arms.  
  
"I believe, with all my heart, that Chandler genuinely likes the Monica he met this weekend. You were being yourself. You don't have to be like me or anyone else. The worst thing you can do is to start playing games with him. He saw the real you, and he wasn't freaked. He spent time with you. But he's in college, Mon, and you're not. That's all I'm saying."  
  
Monica nodded. "You're right. I told him I can handle this, and I will. You'll see!"  
  
*~*  
  
When Chandler arrived at NYU, he decided to go to Central Perk, a local hangout, for some java and dessert. He thought Ross might be there. He didn't see his roommate, but he did see a few of his male friends and decided to join them at one of the tables. When he sat down with his cup of coffee and piece of apple pie, the guys started pointing and laughing.  
  
"I see you finally managed to shed all that 'excess weight'," one of them said and then high-fived another guy.  
  
"What?" Chandler asked, even though the knot forming in his stomach told him he knew what, or rather who, had prompted their insults.  
  
"C'mon," Tony, one of Chandler's friends from high school, said as he straddled his chair. "We know you were only seen with Miss Fatty as a favor to your roommate. Relax, man. She's history. You never have to see her again."  
  
"Or more importantly," another guy added, "be seen with her again. You deserve a medal. You wouldn't have caught any of us having to walk with her on campus. You are the talk of NYU this weekend, that's for damn sure."  
  
"Yeah, okay, whatever," Chandler said, his appetite suddenly gone.   
  
He pushed away the coffee cup and the plate with the untouched pie on it and stood from his chair.  
  
"Where ya goin'?" Tony asked. "Phoebe Buffay is about to entertain us. You know we can't make it through one of her sets without your running commentary."  
  
"Well, you're gonna have to," Chandler said, his tone gruff. "I don't feel like being witty. Any of you got a problem with that?"  
  
"No," they all chorused, wondering what had set off their normally good-natured friend.  
  
"Good. I'll see you guys later."  
  
Chandler was ready to leave when a dark-haired, dark-eyed man, who looked to be of Italian descent, approached him from the next table.  
  
"Hey, I'm Joey Tribbiani. I come here a lot and see you here, too. Looks like you're having some trouble with your friends."  
  
"Nah. It's nothing. I'm Chandler Bing, by the way."  
  
They shook hands. Joey eyed the still uneaten piece of pie.  
  
"Are you really gonna leave without eating that?"  
  
Chandler looked to the table where his "friends" were too busy guffawing and pointing at him to notice he'd left his apple pie untouched.  
  
"Is that why you introduced yourself to me?" Chandler asked, incredulous. "You want my pie?"  
  
Joey had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Well, it's a perfectly good piece, and if you're not going to eat it..."  
  
"Go ahead," Chandler said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Eat the damn piece of pie. What do I care?"  
  
"Thanks, man. Oh, and hey, if you ever want to sit with someone who won't point and laugh at you, come to my table. My friend Phoebe sings here, and I usually come with her, so..."  
  
"Do you go to NYU?" Chandler asked.  
  
"No, not me." Joey straightened his stance and smiled confidently. "I'm going to be an actor."  
  
"Oh, okay," Chandler said, trying not to laugh or sound cynical. "Well, hey, good luck with that."  
  
*~*  
  
"I think my family's home," Rachel said.  
  
She peered out her window and saw the headlights of her father's Mercedes as he pulled into the driveway.  
  
"Yep, they're here."  
  
Rachel and Monica, now dressed for bed, pulled on their robes and headed downstairs to greet the Greens. What they didn't expect to encounter was their fury.  
  
"Rachel Karen Green," her mother said, after sending her two younger daughters upstairs, "you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady."  
  
"Mom, wha-what's going on?"  
  
"You put us in a terrible position tonight. We ran into Monica's parents who thought their daughter had been staying with us. We didn't even know she would be here tonight! How could you have lied to your parents, Monica, and Rachel, how could you have covered for her?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mom, but Monica had something really important she needed to do."  
  
"That involved you and lying?" her father demanded.  
  
"Monica, you get on that phone right now and call your parents. They are worried sick about you. Tell them we will drive you home immediately. Rachel, we will discuss your punishment when we return."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Monica said, practically in tears.  
  
"Call your parents!" Mr. and Mrs. Green yelled simultaneously.  
  
Monica heard the disgust in her mother's voice and squeezed her eyes shut as she recoiled from the tongue lashing. She knew it was going to be a long night.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Rach," Monica said over and over again, as she dressed in the bedroom. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I'll make it up to you. I swear I will."  
  
"My parents are furious," Rachel said miserably. "I hope they don't ban me from the malls!"  
  
"Think of something you want, and I'll do it for you. I promise I will. I'm sorry."  
  
*~*  
  
Monica could not look at her parents as she trudged, despondent, into her house. Her mother ordered her to sit on the sofa in the living room.  
  
"Tell us where you've been the last two days," her father said, his voice stern. "And don't you leave out a single detail, missy."  
  
"I went to see Ross at NYU," Monica said, her voice small.  
  
"What?!" her parents yelled.  
  
"See," Monica said, looking at them for the first time, "I knew you wouldn't let me go, so I had to sneak around to do it."  
  
"What is wrong with you?" her mother demanded. "If you wanted to see Ross, all you had to do was ask. We would've taken you."  
  
"But I wanted to do it on my own! I'm eighteen. I'm not a baby. I can do things by myself!"  
  
"And you sure did this one the mature way," her mother sneered.  
  
"We realize you're not a baby," her father said, "but when you pull stunts like this, Monica, how can you expect your mother and me to treat you like an adult?"  
  
Monica looked away. She knew they were right, but she didn't want to think about it.  
  
"Answer your father!" her mother yelled, her patience gone.  
  
"I know I messed up," she finally said, her voice trembling.  
  
"And you got your good friend Rachel in trouble, too," Judy added. "I don't understand you sometimes, Monica, I really don't."  
  
"Sometimes?!" Monica cried. "How about never!"  
  
"Listen, young lady," Jack said, shaking his index finger at his daughter. "Don't you talk to your mother like that in that tone of voice."  
  
"I had something really important I wanted to talk to Ross about. I didn't go there just to fool around!"  
  
"You should have come to us," Jack said.  
  
As soon as they started taking turns lecturing her, Monica tuned them out. She let her mind wander to the time she had spent with Chandler. As she heard her car and mall privileges being revoked, she asked herself if it had been worth it. Reliving their last kiss in her mind's eye, she knew it had been. She couldn't help but smile inwardly even as it sounded like her parents were punishing her into the next century.  
  
*~*  
  
"Did you talk to him?" Phoebe, a quirky blonde, asked Joey, as they sat on the sofa in Central Perk sipping coffee after she had sung and played her guitar for the patrons.  
  
"Briefly."  
  
"What's his name?"  
  
"Chandler Bing."  
  
Phoebe mulled the name over. "Kinda unusual, but that's okay. What else did you find out?"  
  
"Apparently, he was forced to be with some loser fat chick," Joey said. "Man, his friends were giving him a hard time."  
  
He grinned as he recalled the fast and furious quips being thrown Chandler's way.  
  
"So, you don't think he's seeing anyone?"  
  
Joey shrugged. "Didn't sound like it to me."  
  
"Then," Phoebe asked, her hazel eyes lighting up, "you think I might have a chance with him?"  
  
"Pheebs, after what I heard his friends say about that chick he was with, how could he not want to be seen with someone as beautiful as you?" 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Chandler entered his room and found a neatly written note from Ross on the desk saying that he and Carol had gone to a movie. He also wrote that Chandler's mother had called and that he should call her as soon as he could. He left the number on the pad.  
  
"Could this night get any worse?" Chandler asked rhetorically out loud, as he sank onto his mattress with the phone perched on his lap.  
  
Somehow, he managed to greet his mother with a cheery "hello".  
  
"Chandler! I'm so glad Ross gave you the message. How are you?"  
  
"I'm okay, Mom. How are you?"  
  
"I couldn't be better. The weather in L.A. is gorgeous. How's it in Manhattan?"  
  
"Getting cold. But I can't believe you wanted me to call you so we could discuss the weather."  
  
Nora laughed. "Of course not, darling. I have some good news!"  
  
"Let me guess. You're getting married!"  
  
"No. Chandler, stop being so sarcastic. This is really good news. At least, I think it is."  
  
"Okay. What is it?"  
  
"My Christmas book is being published, and I'm going to be in Manhattan for Thanksgiving! I have a big book signing the following day to kick off the Christmas season. Now, I know you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, per se, so I thought we could dress up and go somewhere fancy and have a non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner. What do you say, son?"  
  
"Well, first of all, you have a Christmas novel coming out? I can't wait to read what you have Santa and Mrs. Claus doing, not to mention the reindeer and the elves."  
  
Nora gave an exasperated sigh. "What is wrong with you tonight? It's a Christmas story. It's very tame and realistic. I'll bring you a copy so you can see for yourself."  
  
"Better make that three," Chandler said. "And autograph two of them. I'll give you the names later."  
  
"Okay. Now, think about where you'd like to go for dinner."  
  
"Actually, Mom, I already have plans for Thanksgiving."  
  
Chandler held the receiver away from his ear but could still hear Nora's uproarious laughter.  
  
"Mom," he finally ventured. "Mom, what is so funny?"  
  
"You, darling," she said, composing herself. "You have plans for Thanksgiving. Yeah, right. This is your mother, Chandler. I know you don't have plans. How can you have plans for a holiday you don't celebrate? Stop kidding with me. I'm arriving the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and I expect you to meet me at the airport in that lovely little car I bought you. Capiche?"  
  
"But I really do have..."  
  
"What is more important than spending time with your mother? I know what your plan is. Your plan is to hide from Thanksgiving and not even acknowledge it, but this year, I'm not going to let you. When I arrive at JFK Airport, I'll be expecting you. Now, I have to go, but I love you."  
  
"Love you, too," Chandler said automatically and then hung up the receiver.  
  
After placing the phone on the desk, he crumpled up Ross' note and threw it in the wastebasket. Why was it the only thing that made any sense to him these last two days was the time he'd spent with Monica?  
  
On an impulse, he grabbed his jacket and headed back to Central Perk. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to widen his circle of friends.  
  
*~*  
  
Joey nudged Phoebe's arm. "Look who just walked in."  
  
"Cool!" Phoebe said. "Go talk to him."  
  
But Joey didn't have to. Chandler saw the pair sitting on the sofa and decided to join them.  
  
"Remember me?" Chandler asked. "The pie guy?"  
  
"Sure," Joey said. "That pie was good, too. Hey, Chandler, this is Phoebe Buffay. Phoebe, Chandler Bing."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Phoebe said, flashing him a wide smile.  
  
"Actually, I feel like I already know you. I...I've heard some of your songs."  
  
"What do you think of them?"  
  
"They're different...but interesting. Always interesting."  
  
Phoebe nodded and inclined her head. "I've led a very interesting life. I should say lives, but I won't get into that now."  
  
"Please don't," Chandler said, not unkindly. "I don't think my brain could take it."  
  
"Rough night?" Joey asked.  
  
"You could say that. I'm going to try drinking another cup of coffee. Can I get either of you anything?"  
  
"No, we're good."  
  
"So, what do you think?" Joey asked Phoebe after Chandler made his way to the counter.  
  
"I like him," she said. "But I have to get to know him better. He seems a little...I don't know...reserved? Distant? Distracted?"  
  
"Yeah. Maybe even a little angry."  
  
Chandler returned with his coffee, and the trio made small talk for a while. Chandler discovered he liked Joey and Phoebe, as friends. When Joey suggested they go out some time, Chandler found himself agreeing.  
  
"Do you guys live around here?"  
  
"Yes," Phoebe said, "we live upstairs from this place. We're neighbors."  
  
"Is that how you met?"  
  
Phoebe nodded. "As soon as my roommate Denise and I moved in, Joey started asking us if we had any food to spare. We discovered he's a pretty neat guy."  
  
"I'm a starving actor," Joey said, by way of explanation. "What can I say?"  
  
"Have you gotten any work?" Chandler asked.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"But he goes on lots of auditions," Phoebe added. "It's just a matter of time. We know he'll get his big break, and then we'll say we knew him when."  
  
"It's gotta be tough," Chandler said, "but you know what? I admire you for following your dream. At least you're giving it a chance."  
  
"What's your dream?" Phoebe asked, trying to draw Chandler out.  
  
Chandler shook his head and sighed. "I wish I had one, but I don't. My dreams were dashed a long time ago, and I've never bothered to find any new ones."  
  
"We all need a dream," Phoebe proclaimed. "It's what keeps you going when times are bad. Without a dream or a goal, what is there to motivate you?"  
  
At that moment, Chandler couldn't have answered that question if he'd wanted to.  
  
*~*  
  
Monica stared at the green digital numbers on her clock radio. 3:03 a.m., and she hadn't been to sleep. She finally climbed out of her warm, cozy bed and carefully made her way to her desk in the dark. She turned on the light, sat down, and pulled her treasured leather-bound journal from the top drawer. Remembering that she had written an entry in her notebook, she stood and padded to her closet to retrieve her purse. She placed it on her bed and unzipped it. After removing the notebook, Monica's eyes fell to the Kit Kat candy bar she had thrown in. She withdrew it and stared at the bright orange wrapping with the bold black lettering. After what she'd endured with her parents, that candy bar looked mighty tempting. All she had to do was open it and take a mouth-watering bite. No one would know. But she would. Monica knew eating the candy wouldn't accomplish anything. She realized she'd always known that, but this was the first time that knowledge had made a difference. She didn't want the chocolate. She wanted to improve herself. With determination, she threw the unopened candy bar into her trash can and buried it. She never wanted to see it again.  
  
Resuming her seat, Monica took her time transferring her thoughts from the pages in the notebook to her journal. She relived the pleasant moments as she wrote. She added her current thoughts to a new page, ending with how wonderful she felt about having tossed the Kit Kat bar. She returned her journal to its coveted place and then removed the packet of photos Carol had given her. She thought she had stared holes into the pictures of Chandler. She couldn't help but smile each time she looked at them. She didn't know what the future held, but Monica wished she could bottle the way she was feeling so she would always have access to this special time in her life.  
  
Still wide awake, she penned a letter to Chandler, thanking him again for the great time she'd had with him. She kept her words brief, safe and lighthearted. Only in her trusted journal would she expose her vulnerability and her insecurities, as well as the few triumphs she had experienced. There was no person, not even Rachel, whom she trusted enough to share her deepest fears and her most cherished dreams.   
  
As she turned out the light and returned to her warm bed, Monica couldn't help but wonder if someday Chandler would be the one who would know the secrets she kept safely and securely hidden within the confines of her tender but well-guarded heart. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of activity for Chandler. He had received Monica's note and had wanted to write her but hadn't because he knew she would be disappointed he wouldn't be a guest in her home for Thanksgiving.  
  
Ross broached the subject as the two of them sat in Central Perk late one afternoon a week prior to Thanksgiving.  
  
"Have you told my sister about the change in your plans?"  
  
"No," Chandler answered and sighed. "I feel really bad I'm canceling on her."  
  
"Well, if you want to bring your mom, I'm sure my parents won't mind."  
  
"Thanks, man, but my mom has this whole day planned for just the two of us."  
  
"Then you need to tell Monica."  
  
"I know." He looked at his watch. "It's 4:30. Do you think she's home? I'll go to the dorm and call her."  
  
"She should be, unless she's with Rachel."  
  
"Okay. I'll catch up with you later."  
  
*~*  
  
Sitting on the window seat in her bedroom, Monica leafed through pages and pages of cookbooks and magazines with enticing recipes, trying to decide on just the right menu for Chandler's dinner. She wanted him to enjoy her cooking, and she also wanted to help make his most difficult day easier to get through.  
  
She jumped when the phone rang but made no move to answer it. When her mother yelled from the bottom of the staircase that the phone call was for her, Monica assumed it was Rachel, who had missed two days of school due to the flu. Monica figured she was feeling better and wanted to get caught up.  
  
Surprise coursed through her when she heard Chandler's friendly voice in her ear.  
  
"Hey!" she said, trying to maintain her composure. "I thought I would get a note from you."  
  
"I'm sorry I haven't written," he replied, his tone sincere. "Things have been hectic. Thanks for your note. How have you been?"  
  
"Fine. I'm sorry you're so busy. I hope things will calm down for you."  
  
"Me, too."  
  
"It's weird you chose this particular time to call because I've been looking at recipes trying to plan the perfect menu for you."  
  
Chandler cursed his rotten luck. He so didn't want to disappoint Monica, but he knew he had no choice.   
  
"Monica," he began and stopped.  
  
She heard the abrupt change in his voice and knew she didn't want to hear whatever he was about to tell her.  
  
"What?" she asked, her voice tiny.  
  
"I...I got a call from my mom. I should've told you sooner, but I've been dreading this. Sweetheart, my mother is coming to Manhattan to spend Thanksgiving with me. I'm not going to be able to be there with you and your family. I'm so, so sorry."  
  
Later, when Monica would sit at her desk and write about the day's events in her beloved journal, she would recall the endearment he had used and how gentle his voice had sounded when he'd said it, but at that moment, all she heard was that he wouldn't be spending Thanksgiving with her. She would not be seeing him. Her heart plummeted. She wanted to cry, but she held herself together.  
  
"Your mom? Wow, that...that's nice, Chandler. Of course, you should spend the holiday with her. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. My concern was that you would be alone."  
  
"I'd rather be spending it with you, Monica. I...I miss you."  
  
"I miss you, too."  
  
"So, tell me about you. Are things any better between you and your mom?"  
  
"About the same. I'm just looking forward to graduating. That's where my focus is."  
  
"I understand."  
  
Monica's eyes fell to one of the cookbooks laying open on her bed.  
  
"Chandler, even though you can't be here for Thanksgiving, may I ask you a question?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"If you could spend the day with us, what food would you want to eat?"  
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
"Think about it," Monica urged, an idea taking shape in her mind. "If you could eat anything you wanted, what would it be?"  
  
"Promise you won't laugh?" Chandler asked, after a thoughtful pause.  
  
"I promise," Monica assured him.  
  
"Okay. Well, whenever I was upset or just, you know...needed a comfort food, I always asked for macaroni and cheese. Eating macaroni and cheese would be the best. It would make it seem like it wasn't Thanksgiving. I know that sounds weird, but..."  
  
Having extensive knowledge in the "comfort" food area, Monica could definitely relate.  
  
"I know what you're saying. That doesn't sound weird to me at all."  
  
"Somehow, I knew you would understand."  
  
"Yeah," Monica said, her voice soft. "I do."  
  
"But instead, I'm going to be eating some fancy food I probably won't even be able to pronounce in an overpriced restaurant that will probably make me sick."  
  
Monica couldn't help but chuckle. "It'll be okay. You're going to spend some quality time with your mom. Isn't that worth a little indigestion?"  
  
Chandler sighed. "I suppose. I just wish she had picked any other time. Any other time."  
  
"But she didn't, and you have to accept that."  
  
"I know. You're right. Thank you. For a lot of things," he said, hoping she knew that he meant what he was saying. "But especially for being so understanding about this. I am sorry I won't be with you on Thanksgiving."  
  
"Me, too. But who knows," she said, a bit mischievously, "maybe someday, when you least expect it, you will get your macaroni and cheese meal."  
  
*~*  
  
At the dinner table that night, as Monica devoured her skinless chicken breast, green salad and vegetables, she gathered the courage to talk to her parents about Chandler.  
  
"That phone call I got?" she began.  
  
Her parents looked at her and nodded.  
  
"That was Chandler, Ross' roommate. When I visited Ross, Chandler and I met, and we...we spent some time together."  
  
Both parents' eyes widened.  
  
"I know," she said. "But he's a really nice guy."  
  
"He sounded polite on the phone," Judy acknowledged.  
  
"He's very polite," Monica assured them. "I...I invited him to spend Thanksgiving with us, and he was going to, but he just told me that his mom is coming into town to see him."  
  
"He can bring her here," Jack offered.  
  
"Her time is limited, and she has something special planned just for them. I'm trying to be mature here, okay, like we talked about, because I have a favor to ask you."  
  
"What is it?" Judy inquired.  
  
"Could I maybe drive the car next Wednesday to NYU to see Chandler? Then, Ross can drive us back Wednesday night. Please? I want to bring the meal Chandler would've eaten with us on Thanksgiving to him on Wednesday."  
  
Jack and Judy exchanged interested glances.  
  
"You care enough about this boy to prepare and bring him a meal?" Judy asked.  
  
Monica nodded eagerly. "Without going into a lot of detail because it is his personal life, Thanksgiving is not one of his favorite holidays. I just wanted to make it easier for him, but since I won't see him, I at least want to bring him some food."  
  
"That's very nice," Judy admitted.  
  
"So," Monica asked, looking from her mother to her father, "could I go to NYU? Ross will be there, and whenever he's ready to leave, we will. I just...I'd like to see Chandler."  
  
Jack glanced at his wife, who nodded.  
  
"Okay," he said. "You may drive the car to NYU next Wednesday. But you let Ross know what you're doing, and when he says it's time to leave, you leave. I don't want to hear you two had any arguments or fights. Understood?"  
  
"Yes!" Monica said, her heart pumping wildly in her chest at the prospect of seeing and surprising Chandler. "Thank you! This means so much to me!" 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
As his mother had requested, Chandler met her at the gate on Wednesday afternoon. The attractive blonde smiled and waved as she sauntered down the jetway. Giving him a fierce hug, she proceeded to tell him all about her flight as they made their way to baggage claim. Only when they were on the expressway leading into Manhattan did she ask him how he was.  
  
"I'm okay," he answered.  
  
"Good. I'm staying at the Plaza Hotel. I thought we could have dinner in their restaurant tomorrow night."  
  
"All right."  
  
Chandler kept his eyes on the road and the conversation to a minimum. His rather sullen demeanor wasn't lost on his mother.  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"I told you I'm fine."  
  
"You're thinking about tomorrow, aren't you?" she pressed. "Darling, it'll be okay. You get through it every year, don't you?"  
  
Chandler bit back a sarcastic retort. He didn't know why he felt the need to be arbitrary. He and his mother got along well enough, when they bothered to be in contact. But this time, he wished she would've come into town and not told him.  
  
"Did you remember the books?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. I've autographed one for Monica and one for Rachel."  
  
"Thanks. I know they'll appreciate it."  
  
"So," she asked, seizing the opportunity to talk to her son without fear of having her head bitten off, "who are these girls? Or should I say ladies?"  
  
"Monica is the younger sister of my roommate, Ross, and Rachel is her best friend."  
  
"How much younger?" Nora asked. She'd heard something in her son's voice when he'd spoken Monica's name.  
  
"A year," Chandler answered. "They're graduating high school in June."  
  
"This Monica. Do you like her?"  
  
Chandler took his eyes off the road to glance at his mother. "Why would you ask me that?"  
  
Nora shrugged. "I'm not sure. Something about the way you said her name made me think maybe you like her. That's all."  
  
Her son chose to remain silent on the subject of his feelings for Monica.  
  
*~*  
  
"Monica, this is so exciting," Rachel said.   
  
She sat at the kitchen table and watched as her friend took great care while preparing the macaroni and cheese and chocolate mousse torte from scratch.  
  
"I know!"  
  
"I can't believe your parents are letting you do this."  
  
"Me neither. I couldn't believe I actually asked them."  
  
"You must really like Chandler. I can't picture you doing this for anyone else."  
  
Monica stared incredulously at her friend. "Rach, I want to be a chef. Of course I want to do this for people."  
  
"Oh, I know, but that's like for money and prestige and stuff. I'm talking about just doing this for a guy, especially while you're trying to lose weight. Chandler's someone special."  
  
Monica stopped greasing the pan for the torte. "He is, Rach. I know I'm probably not succeeding, but I'm trying to be so cool about this. But if you could've heard the way he was talking to me on the phone...I just...I think he's really nice, you know? And even though our upbringing has been different, it's amazing what we have in common. I hope he likes that I'm doing this for him. I keep worrying I'm gonna do the wrong thing and mess this up."  
  
"You won't, Mon. Chandler will love this," Rachel said, snatching a piece of cheddar cheese from the cutting board before Monica could slap her hand. "Guys like it when women cook for them."  
  
"Then how come you never do it?" Monica asked.  
  
"Well, I have other ways of pleasing them."  
  
She and Rachel shared a giggle.   
  
"I'm glad your parents are letting you spend Thanksgiving with us," Monica said.  
  
"Me, too."  
  
"Rach?"  
  
"Yeah?" she said, pilfering another wedge of cheese as Monica rolled her eyes.  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Are you excited...even just a little bit...at the thought of seeing Ross again?"  
  
*~*  
  
Chandler opened the hotel room door for his mother and set her carry-on bag against the nearest wall. She shrugged off her sable coat; Chandler hung it in the closet. After kicking off her gray pumps, Nora made her way to the wet bar where she poured herself a glass of white wine.  
  
"Can I fix you something to drink?"  
  
"Water's fine," Chandler said, looking around at her suite. "Very nice. And probably very expensive."  
  
"Yes, it is. But I'm worth it, don't you think?"  
  
Nora laughed as she handed her son his glass of water.   
  
"Sit down," she said. "Make yourself comfortable."  
  
"I guess I could stay for a little while. Classes are done until Monday."  
  
"How's that going?" Nora asked, having taken a seat across from her son.  
  
"Eh."  
  
"Eh?" Nora repeated. "Chandler, I'm not paying for you to attend NYU so you can say it's 'eh'."  
  
"I know," he said, after swallowing his water. "But I feel like I'm wasting my time."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm not doing anything!"  
  
"What do you mean? You'd better be studying and going to your classes."  
  
Chandler rose from his chair and set his empty glass on the bar. He turned to look at his mother who had twisted in her seat to face him.  
  
"I am doing that, okay. But it's not enough. It's not what I want to do."  
  
"I thought going to NYU was your dream."  
  
Chandler stared at his index finger as he trailed it across the wet bar. "I don't have any dreams. That's the problem."  
  
Nora stood and set her goblet on the bar. She forced her son to look at her so she could study his face as she ran a concerned hand through his hair. "What has happened to you? What do you mean you don't have any dreams?"  
  
"Mom, you're thinking of me as if I were still eight years old! A lot of things have changed in my life. Surely you must realize at least that much!"  
  
"You don't have to snap at me. I'm asking because I care!"  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, placing a gentle hand on his mother's arm. "It's just that I am so confused. I've been spending time with these two people at a coffeehouse near the campus. Mom, they are so interesting and full of life. They don't go to college, but they have dreams, goals, and a plan to make it all happen. I don't have any of that, and for the first time in a long while, I wish I did. I wish I could remember why the hell I wanted to go to NYU in the first place!"  
  
"If it's not where you want to be, then leave."  
  
"And do what? I'm qualified for nothing!"  
  
"Chandler, you're nineteen years old. You can do and be anything you want!"  
  
"See, that's where you're wrong. You lucked out because you managed to beat the odds and succeed at something you really wanted to do. But it's not that easy, and you can't tell me it is."  
  
"It can be easy, if you know what you want to do. Why don't you go to the career counselor on campus? Explain to him or her what it is you're feeling. If you find something that interests you, I'm sure they can switch your classes around, or at the very least, you'll start over next semester. What's the big deal?"  
  
"It is a big deal!" He wished his mother could, for once, see things from his perspective. "I feel like I'm always having to start over! I'm tired of it. Why couldn't my life have had some kind of normalcy about it?! Then, maybe if I wanted to date an overweight girl, I wouldn't have to care what others thought of me! I could tell them all to go to hell!"  
  
Nora shook her head. Chandler knew he had lost her. It was the story of his life.  
  
"Darling, what are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm talking about me and how screwed up my life is! Do you think it should matter how much a person weighs or what they look like carrying that extra weight? Is that how we should be judged? Is it wrong to see something in that person that you see in yourself and realize you know exactly how that person's feeling?"  
  
"Of course that's not wrong."  
  
He banged his fist on the bar. "Then why am I fighting this so damn much?!"  
  
"Chandler, what exactly are you fighting? I don't understand."  
  
"Monica, the girl I told you about earlier."  
  
Nora nodded.  
  
"She's battling a weight problem. Personally, I think she'll win. She's just that determined. But that's not even the point anymore, although it is to people who I thought were my friends. She's a great girl, but no one sees that because they're too busy judging and making crass jokes about how many candy bars she eats! Phoebe, she's one of the people I was telling you about from the coffeehouse, is like the total opposite of Monica. Joey, her friend, has told me that Phoebe likes me and wants to get to know me better. So, I went out with her a couple of times. I like her, as a friend, but I don't feel anything romantic for her. But how easy it would be to get involved with her! And I hate myself when I start thinking that way because the one who makes me feel better is Monica!"  
  
"You just said the answer," Nora said, her voice soft and understanding. "Chandler, why would you get involve with this Phoebe woman knowing you don't have romantic feelings for her when you could maybe have something very special with Monica?"  
  
"Because that's what I do. It's the only thing I know! It's your fault I don't know how to be in a giving, healthy relationship!"  
  
"I understand what you're saying, I do, but Chandler, you are not me and you are most certainly not your father. You are going to have to find your own way eventually. But the first thing you have to do is let yourself feel. I know you've told me before you're numb inside. But I don't believe that's true. If you really didn't have any feelings at all, you wouldn't care that Monica is teased about her weight. You would've been laughing right along with your buddies, and you would've thought nothing of it. But that's not who you are, son. Think, Chandler. Think what made you decide to spend time with Monica in the first place. You felt something, darling. I believe it scared you, but I also believe you liked what you felt because it was real and you couldn't deny it."  
  
"What I feel for her is real. And I'm scared to death I'm going to hurt her."  
  
"Then close yourself off and never take a chance. On anyone. You've been hurt, but you survived. How can you ever learn what it means to be in a real relationship if you never allow yourself to be in one?"  
  
"I do like her, and I want to be with her. But how, Mom? How do I make this work?"  
  
Nora smiled and gave her son a heartfelt hug. "The first thing you have to do is tell her how you feel. That's where you start, my son. That's where you begin."  
  
*~*  
  
With his head spinning and his mother's words still playing in his mind, Chandler drove around for a while after he'd left Nora's hotel room. He knew what he felt for Monica was real, but he still didn't know how to make his feelings work for him instead of against him.  
  
As night began to fall, he pulled into his parking space at NYU. Little did he know his opportunity to tell Monica exactly how he felt about her was only moments away as he headed for his room, totally unaware of who and what waited for him there. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
What Chandler saw when he opened the door would be forever embedded in his mind. In the center of the cramped dorm room he shared with Ross stood a card table, covered with a white linen tablecloth. A candle burned brightly between two place settings. Against one of the chairs, dressed in black pants and a rose-colored sweater, waited Monica.  
  
"What? How?" Chandler finally stammered, after taking a few moments to drink in the extraordinary sight before him.  
  
"Hello, Chandler," she said, her voice soft. "Happy Non-Thanksgiving."  
  
"Monica! I...I can't believe you're here," he said, quickly closing the distance between them.   
  
"I know!" she said and laughed, pleased and relieved that he seemed happy to see her. "I can't believe my parents let me come. Ross is around, but he promised he would make himself scarce. We're driving home later tonight."  
  
"You did all this," he asked, indicating the table, "for me?"  
  
"Yes," Monica said, her azure eyes shining. "I have the macaroni and cheese warming in the microwave."  
  
"Monica," Chandler said, grasping her upper arms with his hands, "no one, and I mean no one, has done anything like this for me. Ever. Thank you soooo much."  
  
"You're welcome. I better go check on our dinner."  
  
"Let me."  
  
"Okay. It's the microwave in the common area down the hall. The dessert is in the fridge, by the way. Oh, take these potholders."  
  
When Monica handed them to Chandler, the tips of their fingers touched, sending shock waves through both of them.  
  
"I won't be long."  
  
As she counted the seconds until his return, Monica waltzed around the small space. She felt as though she were sitting on a cloud. Chandler was happy to see her, and he looked wonderful. She didn't realize how much she'd missed him and how staring endlessly at a photo did not compare to being with him.  
  
He returned with the Corning Ware dish; Monica made room on the table.  
  
"I left the dessert in the refrigerator."  
  
She nodded and pointed to a bottle.  
  
"I thought we could have sparkling apple cider."  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
As Chandler poured the beverage into two goblets, he eyed Monica appreciatively.  
  
"You look great."  
  
Monica shrugged her shoulders shyly. "Thanks. I'm so happy. I've reached my goal to lose ten pounds by Thanksgiving."  
  
"That's excellent!"  
  
"Another five by Christmas is my next goal. Ten would be great, but I want to do this the right, healthy way."  
  
"I can tell you have a plan and are sticking to it."  
  
"I'm determined," Monica said.  
  
"I know!" he said, imitating her effusiveness.  
  
She laughed and held out her glass to toast him. When she spoke, her tone was serious.  
  
"You said no one had ever done anything like what I'm doing for you, but Chandler, no one has ever helped me the way you have. Not very many people have taken the time to get to know me, and certainly no guys, especially ones who are in college. I just want you to know you're someone who's very special to me."  
  
Chandler held her gaze. He knew his opportunity had arrived. He only hoped he wouldn't blow it.   
  
"You have become someone very special to me, too, Monica. Let's sit down," he said, pulling out a chair for her. "I'd like to talk to you while we eat."  
  
"Okay," she said, her heart beginning to race at Chandler's encouraging words.  
  
He sat across from her and smiled when he saw her rosy cheeks through the dancing flame.  
  
"Help yourself," she said. "I hope you like it."  
  
"I'm sure I will."  
  
She agreed to a small portion and pulled a bag of raw carrots from the shopping bag next to her.  
  
"Your parents must be so proud of you," Chandler said.  
  
"I suppose," she said, in between chews. "They don't say too much, but then, I never expected them, too. I'm not doing this for them or anyone else," she clarified. "I'm doing this for me."  
  
"That's the best reason I can think of."  
  
"But," she quickly amended, "that doesn't mean you haven't played a part because you have. I appreciate your support and all the kindness you have showed me more than I could ever say."  
  
"You express your appreciation very well. Seeing you was the last thing I expected to have happen tonight, and it's been the most wonderful. I've missed you a lot."  
  
"I've missed you, too. I didn't realize how much, until I saw you walk through that door. You look fantastic."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
He took a deep breath and then plunged into what he wanted to say. "I'm not very good at expressing myself, and that has gotten me into trouble more times than I care to think about. But I really like you. I don't know much about being in a relationship that has any real meaning or lasting potential. My last one is total proof of that. And yet, I am very drawn to you. I...I would like it if we could start seeing each other regularly."  
  
Monica's eyes grew huge. "You mean like...go out on dates?!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Let me see if I've got this straight. You...you want me to be like your...your girlfriend?!"  
  
"Yes," he confirmed again, her naiveté breathing new life into him. "I told you I'm bad at this, but I want to spend more time with you."  
  
"Wow, Chandler, I never thought I would have a boyfriend. Ever. I thought I was destined to be Rachel's dateless friend and wallflower for the rest of my life. You...you're sure you want to date me?"  
  
"Yes," Chandler said and laughed. He wanted to take her in his arms and give her a great big hug. "I want to date you, Monica Geller."  
  
"I'd like that," she said and grinned impishly. "I'd like that a lot!"  
  
"Good!"  
  
"But I do have one condition."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"You have to tell me about your previous girlfriend and why you're so bad at relationships."  
  
"We don't have enough time tonight," Chandler said, only half teasing.  
  
"Not tonight," Monica said. "But you will tell me everything at some point. I insist."  
  
"I will. And now, I have a condition."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Hold up your glass. I need to propose a toast."  
  
Monica raised her glass. She couldn't keep her eyes off Chandler. She also couldn't keep her pulse and heart rate under control. Chandler had asked her to be his girlfriend. She knew she must be dreaming and that she would wake up any second, so she wanted to enjoy this dream as much as she could before reality came crashing down around her once more. Things like this didn't happen to girls like her. She knew that, and yet, a part of her also knew this was real. She just had to tap into that part of her brain.  
  
"What's your toast?" she asked.  
  
"Simply this," Chandler said, moving his glass closer to hers. "That no matter what happens, we will always be friends. We started out as friends. I would never want to lose that. What do you say?"  
  
"I agree. Friends forever!"  
  
They clinked glasses and then took a sip as if to seal their pact.  
  
"I'll go get the dessert," Monica said, rising from the chair.  
  
"You don't have to. I can get it."  
  
"I want to," she said. "Besides, my feet aren't touching the ground anyway, so I can float to the refrigerator."  
  
Chandler laughed. "I wish I could convey to you just how much I enjoy being around you."  
  
Monica smiled. "I think you just did."  
  
She returned with the chocolate mousse torte and cut him a generous slice. She munched on an apple and didn't feel a twinge of anger or disappointment that she wasn't allowing herself to indulge in one of her favorite desserts.  
  
"I didn't have to eat this now," he protested.  
  
"But I want you to," she insisted. "Not everyone is going to be as considerate as you. I need to learn to be around this type of food and not fall apart. This is good practice for me."  
  
"You amaze me."  
  
Monica smiled. "I have a trick I use. I tell myself that for right now, I'm choosing not to have that dessert. It doesn't mean I'll never eat it again. It just means I'm not eating it today."  
  
"What a great idea."  
  
"So far, it's working."  
  
They had just finished their meal when there was a knock at the door. Monica looked at Chandler.  
  
"That can't be Ross already, but if it is, I'm supposed to go with him and not get into an argument."  
  
"I'm not ready for you to leave," Chandler said. "Is it okay if I talk to him?"  
  
Monica nodded happily.  
  
Ross stood on the other side of the door when Chandler opened it.  
  
"Sorry, but it's time for Monica and me to go," he said to Chandler. "I don't want to get stuck in traffic."  
  
"Ten more minutes? Please? I promise I won't detain her a second longer."  
  
"Okay. Meet me at the car, Monica. In ten minutes. I already put my bag in the trunk. If you're not there, I'm leaving without you."  
  
"I can always drive Monica to your parents' house. It's not like you're the only ride in town."   
  
He quickly apologized when he saw Ross' brow furrow in displeasure.   
  
"Ten minutes. I'm driving my sister to our home, not you."  
  
"Got it. Thanks."  
  
Chandler closed the door. He turned to Monica, shaking his head.  
  
"I was only kidding. I hope I didn't get you into trouble."  
  
"Nah. You probably just sentenced me to a twenty-minute lecture on the drive home. I'll close my eyes and think of you. That'll work."  
  
Chandler smiled as he gathered Monica into his arms.  
  
"I've enjoyed this evening," he told her seriously. "You are very special, and don't you ever forget that."  
  
"You have a way of making me feel special. Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome, sweetheart."  
  
There was that endearment again that just about melted her insides.  
  
"Chandler, I need to be honest with you. A part of me doesn't quite believe this is real. I feel like this is all a spectacular dream, and that any second I'll wake up and realize I haven't spent any of this special time with you. I need some reassurance this is truly happening."  
  
"Okay," Chandler said, willing to oblige his lady, "how about this?"  
  
He lowered his head and slanted his mouth to cover Monica's in a searing kiss that had her leaning against his solid chest and breathing hard. Just when she parted her lips to receive his tongue, he pulled back. He nipped and teased and kissed her everywhere except on the lips. He had her practically begging him to let their tongues mate. When she thought she couldn't stand it a second longer, he finally satisfied some of her wanton desires while igniting others she knew would have to wait for a better time.  
  
When the kisses ended, both were a bit breathless.  
  
"I have to get you to the car," Chandler said, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against the pulse in her neck.  
  
It only served to make it beat faster.  
  
"I know."  
  
"We'll have more time together, I promise. Let's be in touch this weekend to work out a schedule."  
  
"I want that," Monica said, unable to look away from Chandler's electric blue eyes. "I'm already counting the hours until I see you again. Let's make it soon."  
  
"The sooner the better."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
"I really have to let you go."  
  
Monica nodded but made no effort to move out of the protective circle of his arms.  
  
"I want to give you something," Chandler finally said.  
  
He broke away from Monica. She knew it had to end some time; that knowledge didn't make the separation any easier.  
  
"What's that?" she asked, when he pulled a shiny coin in a plastic case from his wallet.  
  
"This is a penny my paternal grandmother gave me when I was a kid. She said she saw it on the ground and that I came immediately into her mind. She gave it to me the same day she found it. I don't know why, but it's something I've kept all these years and carry with me at all times."  
  
"Chandler, I can't take this. It's has a special meaning for you."  
  
"I know," he said, pressing it into the palm of Monica's hand. "And that's why I want you to have it. Think of me when you look at it."  
  
"I will. I'll keep it next to your picture in my room, and when I go out, I'll bring it with me."  
  
"I'd like that. By the way, Carol told me about the pictures. So, Ms. Geller, when do I get one or two or a dozen of you?"  
  
"Me? You don't want a picture of me."  
  
"Yes, I most certainly do!"  
  
"I don't take pictures," Monica said to him, "but for you, I will."  
  
"I look forward to receiving them. And now, Ross will be ready to string me up. You have to get to the car."  
  
Monica reached for the shopping bag that contained what she had brought to the dorm, minus the food. Chandler stopped her and told her he would carry it.  
  
"That's what boyfriends do, you know," he informed her.  
  
"How would I know?" she teased, her eyes dancing. "I've never had one until you."  
  
"We are going to have a good time," he assured her.  
  
As they walked side by side in the brisk fall night, Chandler knew he had made the right decision. He even felt his grandmother smiling down on him. A warmth he hadn't experienced in an extremely long time began to work its way into his body. He knew he wouldn't be satisfied until it finally reached his heart. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
Monica raced down the stairs when the doorbell rang late Thanksgiving morning. She couldn't wait to tell Rachel about the previous evening. She hardly slept, and she had no appetite, which she considered a good thing. When Monica opened the door and saw her best friend standing there, she practically pulled her inside.  
  
"Rachel's here!" Monica called out to her parents and brother. "We're going upstairs."  
  
"What's the rush?" Rachel asked, after Monica had made sure her bedroom door was closed.   
  
"I've been dying to talk to you. My parents wouldn't let me call you last night because I had to spend time with my brother. But guess what?!"  
  
"What? How did your surprise dinner go with Chandler?"  
  
"It was perfect. Rachel, he likes me. I mean, he really likes me. Me! Can you believe it? He asked me to be his girlfriend. We're gonna like go out on dates and everything! I still can't believe it. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up, but it's real. He loved that I cooked dinner for him. He said no one had ever done anything like that for him. It was the best night!"  
  
Monica finally stopped to catch her breath. Rachel smiled.  
  
"It sounds great. I'm happy for you."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Only when Monica had taken a seat on her bed did she notice Rachel's sad expression.  
  
"Is everything okay?"  
  
"Yeah. But...it's weird. I just broke up with Chip, and now you have a boyfriend."  
  
"But Rach, you know you'll have another boyfriend by next week!"  
  
Rachel laughed. "You're probably right. Chandler sounds like a really nice guy. I think I'm ready to date older guys. The ones in high school are stupid idiots."  
  
Monica giggled. "I can laugh now because I do have a great guy, but remember when I would've gone out with any one of them? You'll find the right one, Rach, I know you will."  
  
"You're right. Of course I will. I'm Rachel Karen Green."  
  
But for the first time in the history of their friendship, at least when it came to guys, Rachel felt a twinge of jealousy towards Monica. She didn't like the feeling and knew she would have to do something about it.  
  
*~*  
  
"Monica, dear, help me clear the table," Judy said, after the turkey with all its trimmings had been heartily consumed.  
  
Still in a great mood, Monica offered to do the clean up all by herself.  
  
"You don't mind if I don't help?" Rachel asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Great," her friend said, after following Monica into the kitchen, "because Ross asked me to go for a walk with him, and I want to."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
Ross smiled when Rachel told him she would accompany him outside.   
  
"Rachel and I are going for a walk," he informed his parents.  
  
"That's lovely," Judy said and smiled approvingly. "We'll have dessert when you return."  
  
*~*  
  
After Monica cleaned up the kitchen, she went to her room to wait for Rachel. She pulled the penny Chandler had given her from underneath her pillow and stared at it. She didn't know why, but her instincts cautioned her not to tell Rachel about Chandler's gift. She wanted to keep some things just between her and Chandler. She didn't want to share them with anybody, even her best friend.  
  
When the phone rang, she lunged for it. She smiled when she heard Chandler's voice.  
  
"Hi! How are you? I was hoping you'd call. Did you have dinner with your mom?"  
  
"Yes, I did."  
  
"So, how horrible was it?" Monica teased, returning the penny to its special place. "How many Tums have you chewed so far?"  
  
Chandler laughed. "You sound like you're in a wonderful mood."  
  
"I am!"  
  
"I wish I could be there."  
  
"So do I. But you, mister, are avoiding my questions."  
  
"Not avoiding, just delaying. Actually, dinner wasn't horrible, and I haven't taken any Tums. My mother is...well, my mother. She tries. What about you? How was your day?"  
  
"Not bad. I haven't fought with my brother, and my parents are being very nice. Rachel ate with us. I'm waiting for her to return. She and Ross went for a walk."  
  
"You didn't want to go?"  
  
"No, not really. Besides," she said and giggled, "they didn't ask me."  
  
"Oh. Well, maybe you'll feel like taking a walk with me this weekend?"  
  
"I might," she said, her tone playful. "What do you have in mind?"  
  
"I thought maybe we could get together tomorrow. And Saturday, too. I could stay some place cheap on Friday night, and maybe even Saturday night. What do you think?"  
  
"That would be great! Since Ross is spending the weekend here, you can probably stay with us. It means you have to meet my parents. If you're okay with that..."  
  
"I don't mind meeting your parents. I can tell them what a lovely, warm, thoughtful, generous, giving daughter they have."  
  
"Chandler!"  
  
"What? It's true."  
  
"You're making me blush. Stop it! Now, what time will you be here?"  
  
"How about noon?"  
  
"Noon sounds excellent. I can't wait to see you."  
  
"Me, too. I hope Ross is okay with this."  
  
"If my parents are, why shouldn't Ross be?"  
  
"I don't know, but he's been acting weird lately."  
  
"You mean weirder than usual?"  
  
They shared a laugh.  
  
"Yeah, I guess that's what I mean."  
  
"He did seem fairly quiet at the dinner table, now that you mention it. But he sure seemed happy when Rachel agreed to go with him. Speaking of Rachel, she just walked in."  
  
"Okay. I'll say good-bye. I'm looking forward to tomorrow."  
  
"Me, too. Bye, Chandler. I'm glad we got to talk."  
  
*~*  
  
"Wipe that goofy grin off your face," Rachel said, as she plopped down on Monica's bed.  
  
"I can't help it. I enjoy talking to him."  
  
"That's nice he called you."  
  
"How did your walk go?"  
  
"It was fun. Did you know Ross and Carol aren't getting along that well?"  
  
"No. But Chandler said Ross has been acting strange lately. Maybe that's why."  
  
"Could be. Ross is a nice guy, don't you think?"  
  
"He's okay, but remember, he's my brother, so I can't really be objective. I had to live with him."  
  
Rachel laughed. "Your mom said she's ready to serve the dessert. We'd better get downstairs."  
  
*~*  
  
At the table, Monica mentioned Chandler's phone call and that he would be coming to see her tomorrow.  
  
"Good. We finally get to meet this young man," Jack said. "It's about time."  
  
"If you approve of him, can he sleep on the sofa tomorrow night and Saturday night?"  
  
"I suppose," Jack said, looking to his wife who nodded her assent.  
  
"Thank you!"  
  
Ross hid his surprise that Chandler would be coming to his house. It wasn't that he didn't want him there, but he wished he had a better feeling about his roommate and friend dating his baby sister. Something just didn't seem right to him, but he had to admit he'd never seen Monica looking happier.  
  
When Rachel was ready to leave, Ross offered to take her home. She agreed.  
  
"So, Mon, what time should we hit the mall tomorrow to take advantage of all those wonderful sales and start our Christmas shopping?"  
  
"Rachel, I can't go. Chandler will be here by noon."  
  
"Oh. Wow. I didn't realize we wouldn't be spending the day together. It had become sort of a tradition."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. Maybe we can go one day next week after school?"  
  
"Maybe. Well, have fun with Chandler. If he's spending the weekend, I probably won't talk to you."  
  
"I'll call you, Rach. I will."  
  
"Sure. Whenever you get a chance. No big deal. If not, I'll see you at school on Monday."  
  
That same twinge of jealousy resurfaced; this time even worse. Monica was always available and eager to go with Rachel whenever she wanted to do something. Being told her plans had to be changed was definitely a new experience for Rachel, and she had to admit she didn't like it.  
  
*~*  
  
Monica sat at her desk writing in her journal when her mother told her she had a phone call. Hoping it was Chandler but realizing that was unlikely, she said a tentative "hello".  
  
"Monica, it's Rachel."  
  
"Hi! I wasn't expecting to hear from you."  
  
"I know, but I had to tell you something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Remember when I got punished for covering for you when you went to see Ross at NYU a few weeks ago?"  
  
"Of course I remember, Rach. I'll never forget that time. That's when I met Chandler."   
  
"Yeah, okay, whatever. You said you would do anything to make up for getting me into trouble. Do you recall saying that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, I thought of something."  
  
Monica, her stomach tensing, hesitated before asking her friend what she wanted her to do. She knew Rachel had been upset that she wouldn't be going shopping with her. If she forced her to choose between spending time with Chandler or her, Monica would choose Chandler. She didn't even have to think about it.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" she finally asked.   
  
She held her breath waiting for the answer.  
  
"If Ross breaks up with Carol, which it sounded like he might do, then I want you to get me a date with your brother."  
  
Relief washed over Monica. That would be easy.  
  
"Sure, Rach. If Ross breaks up with Carol, I'll talk to him about taking you out on a real date. No problem."  
  
"Good."  
  
Rachel hung up the phone, feeling somewhat vindicated. If Monica could date a college guy, so could she. And if she and Ross started dating seriously, then maybe she would be unavailable when Monica wanted to do something important to her. Rachel chose to ignore the fact that she was using Ross when she had no romantic feelings for him. But until someone better came along to occupy her time, Ross would have to do. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
"We survived it!" Monica said and laughed.  
  
"Yes, we did," Chandler agreed. "I thought meeting your parents went well, didn't you?"  
  
"Very well. I could tell they like you. That makes me even happier, if that's possible."  
  
Chandler reached for Monica's hand and pulled her into his arms. They had driven to a vista point near one of the more popular beaches in Long Island. The day was brisk but not freezing. The sun, providing what little warmth it could, allowed them to linger in a private spot. Chandler brushed the hair away from Monica's face.  
  
"I don't think you've stopped smiling since you ran to greet me at the car."  
  
"Being with you makes me happy," she said simply and honestly.  
  
"I feel the same way. When I'm with you, I can forget about a lot of bad things."  
  
"Like your former girlfriend?" Monica ventured, unsure it was the right time to bring her up and unsure she really wanted to hear his answer. But she knew they had to talk about her and maybe others at some point.  
  
"Just things in my past," Chandler answered, "which I guess includes her."  
  
"So, do you want to talk about her?"  
  
"Not really. I just want to enjoy this beautiful view with you."  
  
They separated and leaned forward against the wood barrier. With the wind at their backs, they looked out as the sun glistened on the blue-green water. They listened to the waves lapping against the giant rocks.  
  
"When you look out there, at that water so powerful and yet so calming and refreshing, what do you think of?" Chandler asked Monica.  
  
"I think of how insignificant I am," she answered without hesitation. "I don't mean that in a bad way, but I just think how easily one could be swept up into that water and disappear. Forever. What about you? What do you think about?"  
  
"Sorta the same thing, I guess. But I also think about what a great purpose water serves, and then I think about my life. Not that I need my life to be so extraordinary, but I would like to think I could do something that would make a difference. To somebody."  
  
"You've made a tremendous difference in my life," Monica said. "Does that count?"  
  
Chandler looked at her and smiled. "You need to take credit for the changes you're making. Only you could've made those decisions."  
  
"But what if I feel the quality of my life has improved since I met you? Doesn't that mean anything?"  
  
"I hope it does because I feel the same way."  
  
Monica searched his face and saw that he was wrestling with something.  
  
"What is it that you want, Chandler? Really?"  
  
He sighed and reached to clasp Monica's hand in his. "I wish I knew. That's the problem. I haven't told anybody, so please don't say anything, but I'm thinking about leaving NYU."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm wasting my time. I know it sounds crazy. I don't know what I want, so how can I expect NYU or anything else to satisfy me? Yet, I know if I found what it is I want to do, I would be happy. Makes no sense, right?"  
  
"No," Monica said slowly, "I kinda see what you're saying. You need to clear your mind and let yourself just be. I believe you think too much."  
  
Chandler laughed. "You sound like Phoebe."  
  
"Phoebe?" Monica questioned. "Who's Phoebe? Is she the one..."  
  
"Oh, no. No, she isn't. She's a friend. That's all. We went out a couple of times but decided to leave it as a friendship. It just works better that way. She has some different, if not far out, ideas about things. She's always encouraging me to clear my mind. How one does that, I have no idea."  
  
"Since I've been losing weight, I started reading a book here and there. Nothing crazy, but just some common sense things about how we function as humans. A lot of it makes sense if I let myself think about it. We all have baggage, right, but some have way more than others. I realize I need to let some, if not all, of it go. I'm far from doing it, but I realize more and more that I am only hurting myself by continuing to hang on to things that have happened in the past. I read a passage where the author wrote that the person you're resenting may not even know he or she has hurt you. That person is living a pretty decent life while we're all tied up in knots over what? I'm probably not remembering it correctly, but that's the gist of it. And it makes sense, even though I can't imagine just letting everything go. But really, what good does it do to hang on to it?"  
  
"It can serve as a reminder," Chandler pointed out.  
  
"And maybe those reminders are too painful," Monica said, her voice softening. "I think you have some of those, Chandler."  
  
"I thought I was immune to a lot of things," he admitted. "But meeting you and being with you has made me see some things very differently."  
  
Monica leaned her head on Chandler's shoulder. "Good or bad?"  
  
"Definitely good, but I have to be honest, Monica. Some of the things scare me. That's when I get angry with myself that I am letting my past control me."  
  
"Being with me scares you?"  
  
"On a certain level, yes, because I know how badly I've messed up before. And I know just how capable I am of messing up again. A part of me is saying I'm crazy for wanting to be with you, but another part of me, the more rational part, is telling me what a fool I would be if I weren't with you. I'm at war with myself all the time, and I hate it."  
  
"I know what that's like," Monica said, running her hand along the fabric of his shirt. "I know there's always been a thin person inside of me screaming to get out, and when she would make her presence known, it would scare me like nothing else could. So, I stuffed her down with food and more food until I couldn't hear her anymore. I think you're trying to do the same thing, Chandler. But I don't think it's working."  
  
"Have you ever been truly at peace?" he asked. "That's what I also think about when I look out at that water. The water can seem so peaceful."  
  
"I've had moments where I've been okay with who I am and where I'm going, but I've had so much said to me that's been negative, how could I say I'm at peace? So, no, I don't think I've ever truly been at peace. The closest I've come is since I met you. I mean that, Chandler."  
  
Chandler leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Do you know how good you are for my ego?"  
  
Monica looked up at him and smiled. "I'd like to think I'm very good for you. Period."  
  
"You are. You most definitely are."  
  
"Even though I have so much to learn about this relationship business?"  
  
"I am so lousy at relationships, that I know you'll be teaching me. And I'll be happy and grateful to learn from you."  
  
"You're the one teaching me," Monica assured him. "And if I'm this happy, how bad at it can you be?"  
  
"How about so bad that my last girlfriend moved across the country to get away from me?"  
  
"No way!"  
  
Monica was sincerely shocked.  
  
"It's true. Let's see, I think her exact words were she definitely couldn't live in the same state as me, and maybe she would even have to leave the country, but she would give the West Coast a chance before she bailed on the United States and moved to Europe."  
  
"You have to be exaggerating," Monica insisted.  
  
"I wish I were, but I'm not."  
  
"What could you have possibly done?"  
  
"I scared her. I went overboard, as I've been known to do. We hadn't been going out that long. I don't know why, but I felt as though I were losing her. And I panicked. Why, I don't know. I think I just saw it as another failure to add my list. So, instead of doing the rational thing and talking to her, I went out and bought her an engagement ring. I wanted to tie her to me because I was afraid she was already gone. Well, now she is. And it's not that I regret not being with her, but I regret that I couldn't figure out how to just let her go. Why would I want to bind someone to me who didn't want to be with me in the first place? And the really sad part is if she had said yes, I probably would've left the country rather than marry her."  
  
Chandler shook his head. "How pathetic does this make me sound? But it's the truth, and I know I have to face it. I don't know how to just let someone or something be, and then I find excuses not to be with her. It's a cycle that drives me crazy, and yet, I don't know how to stop it. But I do know I don't want to be that way with you."  
  
"So don't be. Remember what we said, Chandler. Friends first and always. I want you in my life."  
  
"I want you in mine, too."  
  
"Then the rest we just take one step at a time. Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed. I think our pact needs to be sealed with a kiss. What do you say?"  
  
"I say you are getting smarter and cuter by the second."  
  
Monica laughed as Chandler pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.  
  
*~*  
  
That night, they had the house to themselves. Monica's parents had gone to a party, and Ross was catching up with some high school buddies he hadn't seen since graduation. A roaring fire filled the living room with warmth as Chandler and Monica sat on the sofa.  
  
"We could listen to some music."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Christmas or regular?"  
  
"Regular. I'm not quite ready for Christmas yet."  
  
"Well, you better get in the spirit," Monica teased, "because we're decorating our tree tomorrow, and you have to help. You have no choice!"  
  
"Do you know how long it's been since I've decorated a Christmas tree? I know you don't have the best relationship with your parents, Monica, but at least you guys do things as a family. I missed that growing up. It might be fun to decorate your tree, although you'll probably rearrange every ornament I hang."  
  
"Hey!" she said, playfully punching his arm. "No fair!"  
  
"Monica, let's face it, sweetheart. You have not liked one thing I've done. But I understand. It's part of your nature, just like what we talked about earlier is part of mine. By the way, did I tell you that you are the best listener I've ever had? If I'm not careful, I'll end up spilling all my secrets to you."  
  
Monica grew serious. "Would it be so bad if you did?"  
  
Chandler gazed into her eyes. "Maybe not. But I mean it when I say I don't want to do anything to scare you."  
  
"You're not scaring me, Chandler, you're letting me into your life. I want that. Very much."  
  
Chandler nodded but didn't say anything. Monica rose from the sofa and played an easy listening CD. She turned around. Chandler was standing behind her.  
  
"Dance with me?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not very good."  
  
"Neither am I, but does it really matter?"  
  
Monica smiled. "You're right. It doesn't matter at all."  
  
They waltzed and swayed to the music. They could've been the two worst dancers, but neither one cared. They were in each other's arms, and they felt happy, safe, and yes, in a most wonderful way, loved.  
  
*~*  
  
I could lose my heart tonight  
If you don't turn and walk away  
'Cause the way I feel I might  
Lose control and let you stay  
'Cause I could take you in my arms   
And never let go  
  
*~*  
  
As she continued to be held in Chandler's arms, Monica couldn't help but let her mind wander to how it would be if she were to give herself to him. She imagined it a lot lately but always after she'd lost more weight. She held to the firm belief that her first time would be special and would be with the man   
she loved and planned to marry. She didn't dare let herself think she could be falling in love with Chandler, and yet he was all she thought about. How does one know for sure one's in love, she mused.  
  
*~*  
  
I could fall in love with you  
I could fall in love with you  
  
*~*  
  
Chandler held Monica close and wondered how he had fallen so fast. He hadn't even wanted to, but she made it so damn easy. She gave of herself without expectation. She listened to him, she cared about him, she encouraged him in the middle of her own trials. But he could not risk doing anything that would ruin what he had with her. That thought screamed loudly and incessantly in his mind.  
  
*~*  
  
I could only wonder how  
Touching you would make me feel  
But if I take that chance right now  
Tomorrow will you want me still?  
So I should keep this to myself  
And never let you know  
  
*~*  
  
I could fall in love with you  
I could fall in love with you  
  
*~*  
  
Chandler released her when the song ended and stared at her flushed face. Monica smiled and ran a gentle hand through his hair.  
  
"I feel protected in your arms, Chandler," she assured him. "I'm not scared at all."  
  
He rested his forehead against hers.  
  
"Right now, I'm not scared either, but I am on my guard."  
  
"Don't be. Let your guard down. You're good to me, Chandler. You've treated me better than I ever knew I could or should be."  
  
"I feel the same way. How many times have I said that? And yet, it's true."  
  
"We're good for each other. Let's focus on that. Please. At least for tonight. Come on. Dance with me. I miss being in your arms. We're going to be all right. In fact, we're going to be better than all right. We're going to be the best!"  
  
Why Chandler couldn't grab hold of that thought he didn't know. But he couldn't.  
  
*~*  
  
And I know it's not right  
And I guess I should try to do what I should do  
But I could fall in love  
Fall in love with you  
I could fall in love with you  
  
*~*  
  
So I should keep this to myself  
And never let you know  
  
*~*  
  
I could fall in love with you  
I could fall in love with you  
I could fall in love  
I could fall in love  
With you...  
  
Song credit: "I Could Fall In Love" - Selena 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
With the sounds of the season playing in the background and a fire crackling in the hearth, Monica sat in her living room, ten days before Christmas, wrapping presents and singing. It was late in the afternoon, and Monica had the house to herself. She finished placing ribbon on a present for Ross, a book he wanted on dinosaurs, and took a second to admire their six-foot Douglas Fir. She loved the smell of pine, and she loved that Chandler had been a part of helping to decorate their tree. She laughed to herself as she recalled she had rearranged his ornaments, just as he'd predicted she would, but only after he had returned to NYU. They had taken pictures of the tree and of the two of them standing in front of it, so she would always have the memory and the photos of what the tree had looked like before she'd fine-tuned it.   
  
Chandler. She sighed as she thought about him.  
  
She missed him. They hadn't seen each other since Thanksgiving weekend. They talked on the phone almost every night, but it wasn't the same as actually spending time with him. The past two weekends she had family obligations because they also celebrated Hanukkah.. This weekend, Chandler had to work on a paper that was due. When she asked him if he was still thinking of leaving NYU, his answer had been yes. He didn't sound particularly happy and that bothered her. She wouldn't admit it to him, but it concerned her that he was planning to leave college. What would he decide to do? Where might he go? What did this possible change mean for them?  
  
Monica forced the questions and the doubts from her mind. They would be seeing each other next weekend. She would concentrate on that. After placing Ross' present under the tree, she pulled out Chandler's gift from the plastic bag and smiled. She planned to take extra special care and time with wrapping his present. Only the best would do for her man. She shivered with pleasure whenever she thought about it. And she thought about it a lot. For the first time, she had a wonderful guy to shop for. She couldn't have been more thrilled or excited. Monica loved what she had bought for Chandler. As she set it on the coffee table and carefully chose the perfect and most meaningful wrapping paper to use, she only hoped Chandler would love it as much she did. She secretly thought he would.  
  
*~*  
  
"Chandler?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I know you're in the middle of writing your paper, but can I talk to you for a sec?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Chandler turned his attention from his textbook to his roommate who was sitting on his bed, looking dejected.  
  
"I think I know what this is about," Chandler said. "Carol?"  
  
"Yeah. We had another fight. This isn't worth it. I should be enjoying my relationship with Carol the way you are with Monica."  
  
Chandler had to smile. "I never thought I'd hear you say those words to me."  
  
"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Ross snapped. "You and Monica are having a great time. Carol and me, well, let's just say if we didn't argue, we'd never speak to each other."  
  
"So why don't you cool things with her? It's not like you're engaged or anything."  
  
"I suppose. I do like her, but we're definitely not getting along. Maybe we should take a step back."  
  
"This is truly a red-letter day," Chandler marveled. "I'm giving you relationship advice!"  
  
"Yeah, but don't forget I know about Roxanne. I'm not sure I completely trust you with my sister, but so far, I have to say, you're doing very well."  
  
Chandler rubbed the palms of his hands together as he avoided eye contact with his friend.  
  
"As long as we're talking, there is something I'd like to tell you."  
  
"What?" Ross asked, his gaze narrowing. "Chandler, if you've done something to Monica, I swear I'll..."  
  
"No!" Chandler said, his head snapping up. "It's nothing like that. Nothing. Believe me. This is about me, and a decision I've made."  
  
"What decision?"  
  
"I'm leaving NYU after this semester."  
  
"What?! Why?"  
  
"Because I've realized I don't belong here. I don't care about this stuff, Ross. I'm wasting my time and my mother's money."  
  
"If you don't care, then why are you working so hard to get good grades?"  
  
"Because I can acknowledge I may feel differently in the future and want to come back. I need my record to be spotless."  
  
Ross nodded in understanding. "What will you do?"  
  
"I had a long phone conversation with my mom, and I told her I've decided to leave. She knew I was thinking about it. I told her how I felt when she came to visit me. I hate to admit this, but she's going to pull some strings for me. I'm probably going to work at a publishing house in Manhattan."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Well, since I'm not qualified for anything, I'll probably be sorting and delivering the mail. But, at least, I'll be doing something."  
  
"I can't believe this. Of course, I wish you only the best, but man, I'm gonna miss you."  
  
"I'm going to miss you, too, but I believe I'll still be in the area. We can hook up every once in a while at Central Perk or some other place. We won't lose contact."  
  
"I hope we don't," Ross said, sounding dubious. "What about Monica?"  
  
"She doesn't know yet. We're getting together next weekend. I'll tell her my decision then."  
  
"You're sure this is what you want to do?"  
  
"Yes. I couldn't be more bored or less interested in school. Right now, college life is not for me."  
  
"I'll feel fortunate if I get a roommate who's half as great as you are."  
  
Chandler smiled. "Thanks, man. That means a lot to me. You'll be all right."  
  
Ross nodded and stood. "Well, I guess I can't put off the inevitable any longer. Wish me luck. I'm off to tell Carol I think it would be better if we didn't see each other any more. At least for a while."  
  
"Good luck. Hey, at least you're talking rationally to her. It's better than what I did."  
  
"Yeah. Hopefully, Carol won't leave NYU over this. Or the state. Or the country, for that matter."  
  
"We don't know that Roxanne isn't in California."  
  
"True. But we also don't know that she's not in England or France or Germany or..."  
  
"Shut up and go break things off with Carol."  
  
"Love your concern," Ross said.  
  
"Hey, I have a college to quit. I can't be worrying about your love life."  
  
*~*  
  
"I was hoping you had decided to stay at NYU," Monica said. "But, of course, I respect and support your decision."  
  
"Thank you. I've been wanting to tell you, but I decided to wait so I could tell you in person."  
  
They were sitting in Chandler's dorm room. Ross had gone to Central Perk. Monica and Chandler were supposed to meet up with him, and then Ross was going to drive Monica home since winter break had just started.  
  
"A publishing house. That sounds like it could be interesting."  
  
"I'm hoping it will be. I know I'll be a lowly entry level clerk, but I have to start somewhere, right?"  
  
"Right. When do you start?"  
  
"January 2nd."  
  
"Do you have a place to live?"  
  
"I'm still looking. I hope I find something soon. There's one other decision I've made. I hope you won't be upset with me."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I couldn't, in all good conscience, keep the car. My mother gave it to me as a reward for going to NYU. Since I let her down, even though she isn't saying that, I'm returning the car to her when I leave. I feel it's only fair."  
  
"But she's never here. What'll happen to the car?"  
  
"She has a friend here who would love to have it. He's supposed to meet me so I can give him the keys."  
  
"Then, you probably won't be able to see me."  
  
Monica was trying so hard not to put pressure on him, but he had her baffled. He didn't seem happy or relieved. He looked miserable. And now he was giving up the car.  
  
"Maybe not as often," Chandler admitted, stroking her dark tresses, "but I will see you, Monica."  
  
"I just...I thought this was supposed to be a good thing. For you. Why aren't you happy?"  
  
Chandler let his hand rest on Monica's shoulder as he sighed. "This goes back to my childhood. I don't know. Maybe I have wanderlust because I was never settled in one place as a kid after my parents divorced. I just...I have a hard time putting down roots, Monica, and yet it's the one thing I tell myself I want desperately. It's that warring with myself thing again. The very things I think I want, I tell myself I can't have. It's almost like I sabotage myself, so then I can say, 'see, that didn't work out either'."  
  
"Is that what you're doing by giving up the car? Are you starting to not want to see me?"  
  
Chandler placed his hand on Monica's other shoulder and gazed into her worried eyes. "No, Monica, I promise you I'm not doing that. I don't feel I deserve the car. I never did think I deserved it, but I justified it in my mind because I was attending the college of my mother's choice. But now I won't be. I don't want to feel guilty about it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I can tell you're upset. I'm sorry, Monica. This is not how I wanted our first meeting in nearly a month to go."  
  
"I had been preparing myself for you to tell me you were leaving. I know it means changes. That's unavoidable. I guess I just didn't prepare myself well enough."  
  
"This doesn't have to ruin our gift exchange, does it?"  
  
"I don't want it to."  
  
"I don't either. Why don't we have the celebration we talked about? Maybe we'll feel better after some eggnog."  
  
"The eggnog is for you. I'm having a diet soda."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Chandler poured himself a glass of eggnog from the carton while Monica popped open a can of soda. They had microwaved some popcorn, and Monica had brought a plate of cookies she baked the previous night for Chandler. She indulged in the popcorn while Chandler munched on a peanut butter cookie.  
  
"This tastes delicious," he told her. "I can't believe you can be around all these goodies with no problem. I can tell you've lost more weight."  
  
Monica smiled. Her first real one since Chandler told her his news. "I reached my Christmas goal. Actually, I surpassed my Christmas goal and my New Year's one. I've lost another eight pounds."  
  
"That's wonderful! Santa is going to have to be very good to you this year."  
  
"Should we exchange gifts?" she asked.  
  
"By all means. I want you to open yours first."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
Monica smiled as Chandler handed her a vibrantly wrapped package of red and green. A giant gold bow sat in the middle. A white envelope was tucked underneath. Monica was about to tear a piece of the paper when Chandler stopped her.  
  
"No, no. First, you have to read the card."  
  
"Of course. Sorry! I'm too anxious."  
  
She pulled off the card and withdrew it from its envelope. A snowy Christmas scene, with glitter, decorated the front of the card. The title, in bold red script, said: "Merry Christmas To My Sweetheart". The card was already Monica's all-time favorite. When she opened it and read what Chandler had written, she loved the card even more.  
  
"My Darling Monica," he wrote. "I can't honestly say I understand everything that's happened between us, but I do know you have had and are having a huge impact on my life. I enjoy everything about you. Our time together has been so special to me, and it's something I'll never forget. I can't pretend I know what the future holds because I don't, but whenever I allow myself to look ahead, you are right there with me. I wish you the sweetest blessings of life, my angel, because you deserve them. Your forever friend, Chandler."  
  
Chandler saw the tears gathering in Monica's eyes and started to kiss them away. She stopped him.  
  
"Don't. Please. I need this release. You don't know what this card, with your beautifully and heartfelt written words, means to me."  
  
Chandler placed his arm around Monica's shoulders and pulled her close. "I think I do," he whispered in her ear.  
  
"You are the sweetest man I've ever known," she said, wiping at her eyes. "You have certainly changed my perception of men."  
  
Chandler smiled. "Is that good or bad?"  
  
"Oh, it's definitely good."  
  
"You've brought this out in me, Monica. I swear I thought I had no feelings left. I felt numb inside. Thanks to your generous spirit, the ice around my heart is starting to melt. A little."  
  
Monica shook her head. "I don't believe that. You never had ice around your heart, Chandler. You just wanted people to think you did."  
  
"Same difference, isn't it?"  
  
"No, not really. You've been looking for love, Chandler. We all are."  
  
"Every time I talk to you, you're wiser. How is that possible?"  
  
Monica grinned. "Did I just reveal another one of those well-kept secrets of yours?"  
  
"Yes, and I insist you stop doing that. Open your present, missy. Right now."  
  
Monica kissed Chandler's cheek. "And you call me bossy."  
  
"Well, you are, but that's beside the point."  
  
Monica nudged him in the ribs. "You haven't gotten your gift yet, mister, so if I were you, I'd be a lot nicer to me."  
  
Chandler laughed. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
Monica finally removed the wrapping paper. Tears filled her eyes once more when she saw the thoughtful gift Chandler had chosen for her.  
  
"Okay, I'm having an emotional day. Sue me."  
  
"Do you like it?"  
  
"Like it? I love it! This is beautiful. Thank you so much!"  
  
She wrapped her arms around Chandler's neck and embraced him. He felt so good in her arms. She never wanted to let him go.  
  
"You talked about those books you were reading, and I saw this one with inspirational quotes. I thought you would like that. Then I thought you could keep track of your daily activities in the calendar part and write your notes as they came to you for your journal in the blank pages."  
  
"It's a wonderful gift. Thank you. I also noticed there's a compartment for photos."  
  
Monica pulled away from Chandler and winked at him.   
  
"I wonder whose picture I will put in there?"  
  
"Probably Kermit the Frog, but hey, I'm okay with that."  
  
Monica punched his bicep. "Ross told you about that, didn't he? He's such a creep."  
  
Chandler laughed outright. "See, this is a good reason for me to be leaving NYU. Now, all of your well-hidden secrets won't come out."  
  
Being reminded of Chandler's decision subdued Monica. Chandler wished he hadn't said anything.  
  
"Now, it's my turn. Where's my gift?"  
  
"Not until I get a kiss," Monica said, holding up a piece of mistletoe above their heads.  
  
Avoidance seemed to be the best course at the moment.  
  
"Kisses are gladly given," Chandler said, already positioning himself to oblige his lady.  
  
When they had satisfied each other, Monica handed Chandler his gift. The first thing he noticed was how neatly she had wrapped it. The second thing he noticed was that she had used wrapping paper that had the word "peace" in it.  
  
"You remembered our conversation," he said, pointing to the word next to a lit candle. "Is the candle in reference to our dinner right here in this room?"  
  
Monica nodded.  
  
"And the blue in the paper is for the water we gazed at while we talked?"  
  
Monica nodded again, pleased he'd caught on to what she had done. She knew most guys would've just ripped the paper off the package without giving it a second thought. But somehow, she knew Chandler would take the time to look at what she had done. And that had been one of the main reasons she had done it. Because he would appreciate it. And she knew he did. He carefully removed the paper, intending to save it. That touched a special chord in her.  
  
He lifted the lid and smiled. "I should've known."  
  
"Well, I have to make you work for your present."  
  
The card sat on top of the gift, which was wrapped with paper that had Christmas trees and ornaments on it.  
  
"I know what those mean," he said. "And I also know you rearranged the tree, so don't try to tell me you didn't."  
  
He kissed the tip of Monica's nose as she grinned.  
  
"Can you believe how many memories we have already?" he asked.  
  
"We're adding to them right now."  
  
"You're right."  
  
He opened the card and had to smile again. A fireplace with a burning flame stared at him.  
  
"Another memory," Monica said.  
  
His card title read: "Merry Christmas to Someone Very Special". He opened the card, read the sentiment, and then focused on Monica's written words.   
  
"My Dearest Chandler," she'd written, "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you just how much having you in my life has meant to me. I know you told me I need to take credit for what I'm doing, but you have changed my life in so many ways. I feel closer to you than I have to anyone in a very long time. You make me feel special. You make me laugh and you make me smile. You make things easier and better and definitely more fun. You are a very important part of my life. You're my forever friend, but Chandler, you are so much more than that. Be good to yourself. I think we both struggle with that, but maybe together, we can learn to let go of a few things. Just a few. I wish you love, laughter and happiness always, Monica."  
  
"Thank you," Chandler said, after he finished reading the card. "I will keep this always."  
  
He carefully unwrapped the present and added that paper to his collection. He gasped with pleasure when he saw his gift.  
  
"Do you like it?" Monica asked anxiously.  
  
"It's beautiful," Chandler said. "Thank you so much!"  
  
Chandler held a black, leather bound journal in his hands. He began to leaf through the pages and saw that Monica had written him a note on the first page.  
  
"Chandler," he read, "I hope you remember our talk about journal writing. I know you said you write down your thoughts, but I wasn't sure they were all together in one place. I hope you will use this as your thought-gathering place. Journal writing has come to mean so much to me. Maybe it will provide you with a little bit of that peace you're searching for? - Monica"  
  
"I think it will," Chandler said, his voice cracking.  
  
Monica wanted him to look at her, but he said he needed a moment.  
  
"There's one more part to your gift," she told him. "Look in the box."  
  
He checked again and saw a long, thin wrapped box leaning against the side. He unwrapped it and saw that Monica had thoughtfully given him a pen to go along with his journal. When he read the inscription on both sides, he nearly lost it.   
  
"If you can dream it," was inscribed on one side. The other side said, "You can be it."  
  
He finally looked at Monica who smiled at him. It was her turn to kiss away his tears.  
  
"We all have them somewhere in our soul, our mind, or our spirit," she told him, as he nodded wordlessly. "You need to find yours again. Find your dream, Chandler, so you can work to make it come true before it's too late." 


End file.
